


Stars Over Moscow

by EverShadow



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:27:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverShadow/pseuds/EverShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate History AU: The Soviet Union never dissolved. Tensions spilled into all out war, and both side will do whatever it takes to win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N and Disclaimer: I am by no means a military buff. I did my best to research what I could, but please forgive me if there are imperfections. I hope you enjoy regardless.

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar_   
_2013-11-23 18:04_

 

The smell of burnt flesh pervades the razed town. For her new squad, only three of them manage not to throw up the second the smell hits their noses. She makes a mental note of the three, Privates Kelley O’Hara, Tobin Heath, and Alex Morgan. All three have harder stomachs than the rest. So General Solo didn’t just throw the scrawniest bunch her way.

“Soldier, harden up.” She snaps to the latest one to lose her meager lunch. Zakiya Bywaters, fresh from sunny California. The cold wintered Soviet Union was no place for a girl like her. In fact, it wasn’t a place for any of them. They were all too young, too small to be fighting out here on the front lines, draft or no.

“Sorry, Sergeant.” Zakiya wipes her mouth before retching dryly. Green around the edges too. This was not a squad meant to shoot guns. They were better suited for at least a month of training more, if not half a year.

But they needed troops on the front line, whoever “they” were. Whoever the XO was, clearly needed these kids, led by an equally green, freshly promoted Sergeant Ella Masar.

“Sergeant!” Tobin Heath calls out. “Still got a live one over here!” Ella has half a mind to duct tape her mouth shut. Even though she calls out as softly as she can, one live Soviet could mean more lying in wait. She closes in on Tobin’s position. A charred, hardly moving man lies near the wall, struggling to breathe. Tobin kicks his boots.

“He’ll be gone in a few hours.” Ella says. “No use to us, look at his uniform, he’s as low rank as you are. This was probably the rest of his platoon.” She gestures at the burned bodies around them, the product of an air strike on a suspected enemy camp. They were right, but smaller bodies, bodies too small to be anything but civvies, also littered the area. Casualties of war, she grimly thinks.

“Should we show him mercy?” Tobin asks.

“Are you volunteering?” Strong stomached as she may be, Tobin turns a slight shade paler at the thought. She quietly pulls her pistol and aims it shakily towards the man’s head. His eyes, white against the black soot covering his skin, flits to her gun almost thankfully. He chokes down a few more gulps of precious air and relaxes, resigned to his fate. Tobin bites her lip and Ella sticks out her hand and pushes it down.

“Go join the others.” Relieved, Tobin holsters her gun and hurries to join the rest of her squad. Ella kneels down and whispers a prayer to him. Even in English, he seems to understand the gesture, and folds his hands together with the last of his strength.

“Rest in peace.” Ella says before pulling out her pistol and shooting him between the eyes. He goes quickly. She searches his body, for any intel before exiting the demolished building.

“Sergeant, we saw some movement up on that hill.” Movement, never a good thing. Ella motions for them to get into position they wait. Minutes go by where her squad hardly breathes. One soldier, Lockhart, peeks over the wall.

“I think the coast…”

A shot. And the first casualty of Ella Masar’s first mission as a squad leader.

“Everyone get down!” Ella yells as the first shower of bullets rain down on their position. Two of her squadmates scream and when Ella looks over, she sees bright fresh blood on the charred walls.

“Fuck!” She looks over to the other side. Tobin and Kelley take turns firing, and if it wasn’t for the ongoing attack, she might’ve offered praise for how calmly they handled the situation. But she counted only two when there were once three against the wall. She scans behind her for Alex, but it isn’t until she looks ahead that she spots her. She bites her tongue when she sees her moving fast up the hill, faster than she would expect with the gear she’s carrying, but she makes good progress. Tobin and Kelley’s actions make more sense, keep the enemy occupied with their gunfire while Alex flanks them.

“The rest of you, fire at will!” She yells. She peers around the corner and spots Soviet uniforms hiding behind trees at the top of the hill. There’s enough wreckage to cover Alex’s movements, but it’s still a gamble. Eventually she loses sight of Alex near the church, and she prays. A minute goes by, gunfire mixes with gunfire and she can’t tell if any of it’s decreasing. She clips one soldier in the shoulder, and then it’s all quiet. She holds fast to the wall, heart pounding.

“Private Morgan? Private Morgan respond!”

“It’s all clear up here, Sergeant!” Instant relief, even mirth fills her squad as they whoop and cheer, relaxing in place.

“Everyone up the hill now!” Ella yells. “That’s the last time they have high ground advantage.” While her troops scramble up the hill, she pauses by the fallen Private Lockhart. She places her hand on her chest and whispers a few final words, verses from the Bible, in hopes it would reach her soul. As soon as her team is up the hill, she takes a survey. Four of her soldiers have superficial wounds, bleeding a lot but nothing serious. Bywaters takes care of the two with the worst wounds quickly. She radios in the casualty, and everyone takes a moment of silence.

“Doesn’t change our mission.” Ella says after the report. “Take the church, we’re to hold the ground until tomorrow, when the wheels come rolling in.” Wheels as in tanks, jeeps, more infantry. Tomorrow they would have the town secured, and it would be just another meager mile in their long march to the capital.

“O’Hara, help me get Private Lockhart into the church.” Kelley flings her rifle over her shoulder and the two of them go back down the hill to where Lockhart lay. Ella looks over at her squad member. Her jaw clenched hard when she saw the body, and she swallowed repeatedly, either fighting tears, or vomit, or both. They each take a side, Kelley grabs under her knees and Ella under her arms. She’s heavy from all the gear, but they manage to get her up the hill into the abandoned church.

Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness inside the church. Tobin and Alex set up camp near the boarded windows on one side, Angela and Hanna on the other side. Zakiya, Sandra and Liz take up the middle, where Zakiya finishes bandaging the both of them. None of them look when they walk in with the body.

“Any activity out there?” She hisses as quietly as possible, but her voice still echoes in the empty room.

“No, ma’am.” The four by the window reply.

“Keep an eye out. I don’t know if those soldiers were scouts or the remains of the troops here.” She and Kelley set the body down behind the pews where no one could see and Kelley hurries to join Tobin and Alex by the window. Ella gauges the mood; somber, low morale, exhausted. She’s not surprised, for many of them, this was their first time in an active firefight, and perhaps their first experience with friendly casualty. Even Alex, who had been composed enough to sneak up the hill and gun down however many Soviets as there were left looks distracted. _They’ll learn how to compartmentalize it. Let the therapists and psychologists back home deal with it when they can’t._ She thinks. _Damn it, it was supposed to be a simple mission..._

Cold settles in quickly when they stop moving and the sun fades, diminishing visibility quickly. She rubs her gloved hands together for warmth.

“Get away from the windows, you won’t be able to see anything once it’s dark.” She orders and her squad reconvenes in a protective circle around the middle.

“How long until the rest of the company arrive?” Zakiya asks.

“They’re still fixing. Said they’d be here by morning latest. Stupid vehicles weren’t made for this kind of cold.”

“We weren’t made for this kind of cold.” Hanna jokes and it gets a laugh out of half of them. Ella bites her lip while the rest of her squad make small chat. Her mind return over and over again to Lockhart and how wrong it all went. Her death plays over and over, a lack of judgement on Lockhart’s part, but ultimately her death fell on her shoulders. She was the leader, it was her responsibility to take care of her squad. Now it was up to her to write up the report.

“Lockhart’s death wasn’t your fault, Sergeant.” Ella starts when she realizes Zakiya’s talking to her. The rest of the group had made makeshift beds for the night. Most settle down, save for her three most experienced soldiers, O’Hara, Heath, and Morgan, who sit close by the door.

“This was supposed to be an easy mission. Six squads fan out from base to clear out the small towns and hold position after our air support clears them. It was supposed to be a no casualty mission, no casualties, no injuries.” Ella repeats from memory. “If there was even a hint of risk, they would’ve sent more. More experienced soldiers, a bigger group, better lead-” She stops in mid-sentence. Sowing seeds of doubt now would only damage her soldiers.

“Thank you for that, Private Bywaters.” Ella says, clearing her throat. “Get some sleep, I’ll take first watch with the others.” She couldn’t sleep anyway, not with Lockhart’s face etched into her mind.

 

~**~

 

_Sergeant First Class Becky Sauerbrunn_   
_2013-11-24 10:33_

 

“Shit. Who fucked up?” Sergeant First Class Carli Lloyd asks, nodding her head to the Captain’s tent. A string of loud, serious, incoherent yells streams out of the tent. Becky shrugs, unpacking her gear.

“Think it’s Sergeant Masar. That mission, to search and clear the small towns? Her casualty count was one.” Heather O’Reilly pipes up. Carli whistles low.

“Shit, wasn’t that her first assignment with her own squad? I thought the towns were supposed to be cleared before anyway.”

“Someone didn’t do their job, I guess, either Masar or our air.”

“Chair force.” Carli scoffs. The camp goes quiet when Masar leaves and she looks like she’s fighting back tears.

“I feel bad for her.” Sydney Leroux sighs.

“Promoted too soon?” Her best friend and fellow draftee, Kristie Mewis asks.

“General Solo doesn’t make mistakes. If she thought Masar was right for the job, she’s right for the job.” Carli replies.

“Gossip kills morale.” Becky says quietly and the soldiers shut their mouths. “Everyone starts somewhere.”

“Not you, Broon.” Carli laughs. “What, 43 missions, no casualties, 100% success rate since this team formed?” Becky smiles to herself. Fluffing the ego was one way to get killed, and she rolls her eyes at the stats. Not everyone had her luck, not everyone had her team. Sergeant First Class Becky Sauerbrunn led one of the most experienced, efficient, and successful teams in the area. Composed of Sergeants First Class Lloyd, Cheney, and O’Reilly, as well as Corporals Leroux, Mewis and Rapinoe, their skill and value earned them the unwanted nickname “Pink Berets”, to prod at the fact that they would never be considered for the actual Special Forces because of their gender, even though few doubted their ability.

“So what’s our mission, oh fearless leader?” Sydney asks, clipping more ammo onto her belt. Even though they had just come back from another search and rescue, none of them would think about complaining of fatigue. For that she admired them.

“Infiltrate and rescue this time. Sovvies have one of our people, and we’re to get him or her out quietly.”

“You do quiet and brutal best.” Heather jokes, elbowing Becky.

“Do we know anything about the target?” Carli asks.

“American.” Becky answers dryly.

“Are you serious? Are we flying blind?”

“Orders from General Solo don’t say who, only that we have ‘an American in Sovvie hands that we need to rescue.’ She did mention our POW is from Company 20.” It was as if all air disappeared from the tent. Her soldiers suck in a sharp, surprised breath.

“Company 20? Thought they were all demolished when we first came ashore.” Carli peeks out from her bunk, intrigued by the details. Becky bites the inside of her cheek. That detail bothered her too. It was just a year ago when Company 20 hit the shores near Sochi and overtook the city; a victory that marked the turning of tides in the Third Great War. It was a turning point, one that everyone hoped foreshadowed victory. But Company 20 had been decimated, with no known survivors in active combat. They had become somewhat of a legend in the ranks.

“Well, according to intel the General received, we have one POW to save. He or she’s nearby, over those mountains ahead in a small farming town, no doubt their next base. We can’t bomb the place if there’s a friendly. ” Becky says.

“So send in the extraction unit.” Heather pumps her fists. Becky closes the tent around them as Megan Rapinoe steps in with Lauren Cheney.

“Ok.” She spreads the map of the local region across a table. The six of them close in. “From what our radars could tell, we won’t be able to get near the town by air. The closest we can get before they spot our plane is 20 miles. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to trek 20 miles. We can, however, use land based vehicles to get us within 10 if we follow along the valley leading up to the town.” Becky points to a low elevation area. “River should be solid, so we’ll take skis, stay out of their detection until we ride up onto their base. Sergeant Rapinoe will be covering us from the hills with sniper fire but only if we get into active combat. This is a infiltrate and rescue mission, I want as little casualties as possible, ours and theirs."

"As always." Sydney winks at Kristie.

"I want two teams of three fanning out and searching. They'll probably be keeping our POW here." She points to a large building in the middle. "Intel says there's a basement, and activity's been relatively heavy in and out of that building."

"So we'll smoke the building." Carli suggests.

"Yes. And we'll get in and get out. Once we're clear of town, we radio in and our air support will level the place." Simple. They'd done this sort of mission a dozen times already. Becky looks around, sees the overconfidence brimming on each face. Worrisome, certainly. They were going to make mistakes at some point, and the longer they went without making a mistake, the more costly it would be once they did. She could only hope the war ended before it happened.

 

~**~

 

_2 Years Ago..._

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger_   
_2011-12-10 13:04_

 

_For what it was, her bunk in Frankfurt was nicer than what she'd gotten used to out near the border of Sweden. Ali sits back in her chair and reviews her notes. A fresh crop of soldiers had come in to maintain order once the US smashed through the Berlin wall and regained control of most of Germany. Needless to say she requested more troops to hold their vital position before advancing, and all requests that managed to bubble up through the ranks had been declined until now._

_Now they guaranteed all leaders of platoons an additional twenty soldiers._

_She liked Germany. It had been her station for a few years and she saw many milestones, victories, and losses. It had become a second home to her, and it certainly helped to have her brother stationed in the same city._

_A knock on the door snaps her out of her thoughts and she yells "come in"._

_"I was just thinking of you." Ali says standing up to greet her brother, First Sergeant Kyle Krieger. She pauses when she sees an unfamiliar blonde girl standing next to him. Her uniform stripes indicated corporal, but she would’ve known her if she had been anything but a recent deployment._

_“Ali, this is Corporal Ashlyn Harris, she just arrived. She’s in your command, you know, to replace…” He trails off, unwilling to dredge up such a fresh loss. “Corporal Harris, meet my sister, First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger.”_

_“Ali.” Alex extends her hand, which Ashlyn takes in a firm grip that takes Ali by surprise. “If you ever need to call me something informal.”_

_“Of course.” Ashlyn replies with a smile punctuated by dimples. “I’ll do the best I can to serve you.” Something about the second statement unsettles Ali, like she’s said it in other settings but she quickly shakes it off._

_“Glad to be working with you. We’ve got a lot of problems in the West. Lots of pocket rebellions setting off bombs, the occasional firefight. Mostly a nuisance than real harm, but rebels are rebels, and they’ve hurt enough people.” Ali explains._

_“Well I hope I can be of some use to you then.” Ashlyn replies confidently. “I specialize in infiltration and reconnaissance, smoking out rebels’ll be no problem.” Her eyes never leave Ali’s and Ali bites the inside of her cheek to steady herself. It was like Ashlyn was challenging her, perhaps she had no confidence in her ability to lead? She forces a smile and silences her worries. How could she judge already?_

_“Get settled. I’ll fill you in on the details later. If your specialty is what you say it is, I may have a few missions perfect for you.”_

_“Will do, ma’am. You can use me however you see fit.” Her smile widens, and her dimples deepen. As appropriately as she says it, “you can use me” sticks in Ali’s head far longer than she felt comfortable._

~**~

 

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar_   
_2013-11-24 10:47_

If she was angry, she certainly knows better than to show it. So she punches the side of a tank the minute she reaches the one next to her quarters.

“Fuck, fuck, damn it, fuck.” She curses, shaking her quickly reddening hand. She shoves the door open as hard as she can, nearly knocking Sergeant Lori Chalupny onto her back. Papers fly everywhere when she shirks away from danger.

“Jesus!” She exclaims, jumping away from Ella. Ella hangs her head and curses again.

“Sorry Lori. I didn’t - sorry. Are you ok?”

“Apart from nearly getting flattened by a door, yeah.” She gathers her papers, scattered on the ground from the encounter and Ella stoops to help.

“Sorry, I just, sorry. I’m not having a great day.” Lori smiles at her sympathetically.

“I heard. You doing ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. I mean, Captain Rampone just got finished tearing me a new one, but that’s nothing in comparison.” She flexes her swelling hand, its mobility already limited by pain. “I’m just so mad.” Lori stacks her papers cleanly and sits on the stone steps of their storage room turned bunk. Ella leans against the wall in their tiny entryway and rests her head against the cold stone surface.

“It was supposed to be an easy mission.”

“I heard from the others. Look, you did your job, if you hadn’t kept your cool, half your squad would be dead.”

“Half my squad would be dead if it wasn’t for that damned lucky Private Morgan. I’ve never seen a soldier move that fast before. And Privates Heath and O’Hara, they knew what they were doing better than I did.” Lori places a comforting hand on Ella’s shoulder.

“Yeah, well, they’ve been here a lot longer. They’ve seen a hellava lot more combat than either of us and trust me, they know a thing or two about keeping teammates alive.” The way Lori says the last part, like there’s something more about the three of them than was listed in their profiles, makes Ella look at Lori with an inquiring gaze. Lori studies her confusion. “You haven’t heard their story, have you?”

“I read their reports. They’ve served together on five different squads, this is their six...”

“And did you not notice that all they were consistently the only survivors on their other missions?” Lori asks. Ella blinks at her, uncomprehending her implications. “Your squad was the first to return with other surviving members.”

“What happened to their other squads?” Lori shrugs.

“War happened. Missteps in mine fields, snipers, and bad ambushes. Those three have had to watch every one of their squadmates die in front of them. They’ve started developing a reputation, people around here avoid them, call them bad luck.”

“So you’re saying that they gave me the three that no one else would take.” Ella says flatly. Lori frowns and crosses her arms and Ella instantly feels terrible.

“I’m saying, you made it back with those three and only one casualty. No one’s done that before and as angry as Captain Rampone is, you’re bound to get some respect from everyone else, and most of all from those three privates for breaking their streak.” Ella lets her statement sink in. She honestly never thought about it like that, nor did she know that her three most important privates had such a bad track record. Soldiers were superstitious bunch, it didn’t surprise her that they’d be looked as more a liability than an asset. Lori pats her and gets up.

“Don’t let it get you down, Masar. If Rampone didn’t take away your squad, that means she still thinks you’re fit for the job.” She glances down at Ella’s hand. “And get some ice for that. You can’t shoot a gun if you hand can’t close around the trigger.”

When Ella gets to her bunk, there’s already orders for the next mission. She shuffles outside and sticks her hand in the snow. There was barely any time to even let her hand heal.

 

~**~

 

_Private Alex Morgan_   
_2013-11-25 02:46_

In the din of gunfire and mortars, Alex scrambles for cover. She’d long forgotten about her gun, probably lost in the rubble after the last explosion.

"TOBIN!" She screams. "KELLEY!" This wasn't right. They had been by her side just a second ago. Then again, a second ago her backpack wasn't bombed open by a mortar shell. It has saved her life, though she could feel the scorch marks left by her burning pack. She locates two of her squadmates, riddled by bullets, neither of them Tobin or Kelley. They must have been flung out of the open window by the mortar.

Alex scrambles to ground level and yells again. A grenade explodes near her and she ducks behind a large brick wall.

"Alex?" She barely sees Tobin.

"Tobin!" She sprints over to where Tobin lay against the wall. She is nearly indistinguishable from her surroundings, both being covered in ash and char. "Tobin!" Her hands move Tobin's aside to reveal a large gash on her thigh, probably made by shrapnel, or the fall.

"Come on, we gotta find Kelley." Alex says, throwing Tobin's arms around her shoulders. She hears distant voices calling out, Russian voices. Tobin refuses to budge.

"You're fast." Tobin laughs weakly as Alex applies more pressure on her shoulder. "You can outrun their bullets."

She pushes Alex's hand away.

"So run."

So Alex does run as fast as her legs can carry her. Bullets whiz by her but she doesn't try to outrun the bullets. She runs towards them. She holds Tobin’s rifle close to her side and slams against a nearby wall. A Sovvie soldier clambers over the rubble and Alex guns him down quickly. Two soldier flank her while she does so.

Blood splatters against the dirt and Alex falls to the ground. When she looks down, all she sees is the pool of blood escaping her thigh. Her head spins and she tries futilely to keep the blood in. She opens her mouth to scream for help, but another bullet slams into her shoulder and knocks the wind out of her. She tries again, to yell for help without any air in her lungs, and yet another bullet hits her in the back of the throat.

She wakes screaming, clutching her thigh and mouth. Arms surround her instantly and her eyes focus on the figure she so desperately claws at to get away from her. The arms only cling tighter as she struggles until she realizes it’s Tobin.

“You’re ok, you’re ok.” Tobin whispers over and over.

“My leg…” Alex clutches at it, she can still feel the hole where the bullet should be. Tobin grabs her pants down by the ankle and hikes them up all to way to where Alex clutches her leg.

“See? You’re ok.” Tobin says, and does the same to the other side. Alex gulps air and tears, crying hysterically but Tobin never lets go.

"Would you keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep." Kelley groans into a sitting position. She's kidding, though it's hard to tell. Alex wipes her tears, trying to form a witty retort but Tobin shoots back for her.

"Need your beauty sleep?"

"You know it." Kelley sleepily smiles. She looks down from her top bunk. "War nightmares?"

"Yeah. I lost my leg." Alex replies, still rubbing the nonexistent bullet wound. Kelley swings her legs off her bed and let her feet twirl. "Our first battle. When Pinoe saved our asses by sniping half their troops and Sauerbrunn..." She trails off. They had been there. They had survived; just the three of them. Saved with seconds to spare by Sergeant Sauerbrunn's squad.

"I get them too." She admits. "When I wake up, I check my limbs." She taps her arms and legs each with her finger tips. "And I make sure you guys are safe."

"Do you wanna go back to sleep?" Tobin asks. "Want me to stick around?"

"Get a room already. A different room." Kelley chides lightly. Tobin rolls her eyes.

"I might go for a walk." Alex says, getting up.

"Want company?" Alex shrugs in the dark, and Tobin assumes based on her silence that she couldn't care less. Kelley, too, hops off the top and the three of them bundle up for the cold, below freezing climate outside.

They sneak past the patrol and wander up to the bell tower. Kelley sweet talks the patrol there to let the three of them take over for a little while and he promptly goes downstairs for some much needed sleep.

Alex sits near the edge. Tobin and Kelley take either side and Kelley drapes a thick blanket over the three of them. It's quiet at night, and the stars illuminate the distant hills where barely visible lights from the tiny, US occupied towns flickered. The dark blue sky drapes their background, dotted only by white wisps of clouds.

"Won't see this back at home." Kelley says. "Cali gets no snow." Alex sniffs, and breathes heavily through her mouth at the sound of her home state. Tobin shoots her a dirty look for mentioning home; a topic taboo to most soldiers. "Sorry."

"No, it's ok." Alex sighs. "You're right. This is beautiful."

"Saw you got some letters." Kelley tries again. "Family?"

"Yeah." Alex smiles a little at the thought. "They got my photos. Told me about my mom's birthday party. They want me back before her next one."

"We'll be back." Kelley reassures.

"We don't know that."

"This war has been going on for years. You think it's going to keep going another one? Look at how far we've gotten. We're on their soil."

"That's what they said a year ago. They said it would only be a few months after Sochi. They said a few months and we'll be dancing in Moscow." Alex retorted angrily. She hits her boots on the side of the tower, chipping at the ice. Kelley shut up quickly and looked at the ground several dozen feet below them. A year ago was when they were all drafted, when they graduated and became eligible for the draft. The army needed soldiers for the effort, and when the men thinned in number, they did what the Sovvies did months before them, they did what the president swore he would never even consider: extend the draft to women.

Alex remembers crying when she got her notice in the mail. Tobin remembers slipping into her shoes and running until she couldn't go another step. Kelley remembers staring at her ceiling while music blasts in her ear, the letter neatly folded on her stomach.

"Hard to believe, huh?" Tobin asks, speaking for the first time since they set foot outside. "We've been here for six months already."

"Seven." Alex corrects.

"Eight since we met." Kelley chimes in. Alex grins more at the memory of boot camp, when they were still hoping the war ended before they were deployed.

"That was such a long time ago, huh?" She asks and the three of them huddle closer in the cold winter night, trading memories in the dark.

 

~**~

_2 Years Ago…_

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger_   
_2011-12-31 23:50_

_She really should reprimand them for using valuable resources, posing a potential fire hazard, and simply being idiots. But these moments, moments when they could forge some semblance of normalcy, were few and far between. If they couldn’t kiss their loved ones, they could at least celebrate like they were back home. So Ali watches wordlessly from her bunk window while her soldiers outside create makeshift sparklers and firecrackers out of gunpowder and bits of metal._

_“They’re going to shoot their eyes out.” Ali jumps when a voice announces someone approaching her from behind. Ashlyn knocks on the doorway, but her torso leans half in before Ali motions her to come inside._

_“Were you out there with them?” Ali asks as Ashlyn sets something heavy down on the windowsill._

_“Just walking from the mess hall to here, ma’am.” She says. “Saw them fooling around with their guns, and some pouches of powder.” Ali eyes the brown, bottle shapped paper bag sitting a few inches from her. Everything about it screamed contraband._

_“It’s just juice.” Ashlyn says, lifting the bottle out from the bag. “Sparkling grape juice. I figured, you know, celebrate the new year, ma’am.”_

_“You don’t have to be formal with me tonight. It’s the new year after all. We can relax.” She lets a breath pass between them. “Who are you celebrating with?”_

_“You. Figured you could use some company, what with your brother on assignment and all.” She uncorks the bottle with a loud pop and the two of them both look to the door to see if anyone was about to come charging in thinking it was gunfire. When no one came to investigate the sound, Ashlyn hands the bottle to Ali. “No glasses, we’ll have to be really informal.” Ali takes a small sip of it, just enough to taste, before passing it back to Ashlyn who chugs a good fourth of it before setting it down between them. Outside, one of the soldiers had managed to get his sparkler working and he proceeded to chase some of his friends around with it as they struggled to get theirs working._

_“There are rumors, you know.” Ali doesn’t know why she lets it slip, but the rumors has been like pin pricks in her mind and with Kyle gone, she had no one to relay her concerns._

_“Rumors?” Ali takes the bottle and downs a good mouthful this time, suddenly wishing Ashlyn had brought some real, serious contraband. Ashlyn watches her face steadily, and she can feel her patience lingering until Ali was ready to speak again._

_“With the victory in Bulgaria, there are rumors that they want to deploy a few of us down there.” Not a few, from what Ali heard around her commanders, they wanted to a whole field army to Bulgaria. If that didn’t mark a readiness to march into the Soviet Union, she didn’t know what._

_“Oh.” Ashlyn goes quiet. “Did someone talk to you?”_

_“No.” She feels silly. She’s been in Germany longer than most of the other platoon leaders. She knew the area, there was no way they would deploy her to Bulgaria. Outside, several more of the soldiers manage to light sparklers, and the light dances through the window._

_“If they reassigned you, I would request transfer as well.” Ali’s eyes widen and she looks up at Ashlyn, half expecting to see a joking smile. Instead, she sees the steady resolve she’d come to respect, even admire in her oft surprising Corporal._

_“I’d need you.” Ali replies despite herself and when she sees surprise flicker in Ashlyn’s eyes, mimicking the lights of the dying sparklers, she adds, “you’ve been an invaluable soldier.” Someone down the hall yells “Happy New Year!” and the two of them instinctively look at their watches. Midnight. When Ali looks back up, Ashlyn’s grinning in that familiar way again._

_“Happy new year, Ali.”_

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 _Staff Sergeant Ella Masar_   
_2013-11-25 09:01_

The look on her soldiers’ faced match exactly what she felt just yesterday when she actually got around to reading her official orders.

“Transfer?” Tobin asks. “Just the five of us?” Ella nods solemnly. Yes, just the five of them. Just the five who came back from the mission unscathed. It seemed like her commanding officers wanted their entire group gone, like washing away the bitter taste of an imperfect mission out of their mouths. The injured ones they could pawn off to hospitals outside of Russia, the uninjured ones…

Transferred to the middle of nowhere to be watchguards for some insignificant outpost.

“I’m sorry.” Ella lets the apology slip from her mouth before she can stop it. With it came a flood of emotions she was told never to let show; regret, sadness, a moment of weakness.

“It’s not your fault, Sergeant.” Zakiya tries to tell her.

“I should have been a better leader, and you all do not deserve to be punished for it.”

“It’ll be a nice break from all this combat.” Kelley reassures. The others chime in with agreement. Though it does little to lift Ella’s spirits, she manages a smile to let them know that their attitude about the transfer is much appreciated.

“So when are we being transferred?” Alex asks.

“Tomorrow, 12:00. We’re to clear up what we have here, and prep for the trip. We’re going with the supply convoy, and we should get there in 7 hours.” Hearing the length of the trip makes her soldiers frown a little. “Small town, we’re to relieve some of the soldiers that have been there for a few months now. We’re the ‘fresh legs’ so to speak.” She tries to make her voice light, but it comes out flat instead. Without anything else to say, she hands over copies of their reassignment and dismisses them without any further words.

The whole base buzzes with early morning activity. It’s good that everyone’s busy, because it makes the long walk to Captain Rampone’s office a little easier without knowing eyes glancing her way.

“Captain, Sergeant Masar is here to see you.” Her little desk lackey, a thin boy who looks far younger than his required draft age, lets Ella in and closes the door behind her.

“Sergeant Masar. I don’t think I have to guess very hard as to the purpose of your visit.”

“Ma'am, with all respect intended, I understand my transfer, but Morgan, Heath, O’Hara and Bywaters are all good soldiers. They deserved better than getting shipped to some no name outpost to gather dust.” Christie breathes and lets out a heavy sigh, like she’s been expecting this attack since she sent those transfer papers. “I understand how upset you are at me, I just don’t think it’s fair to them…”

“They weren’t the only ones wronged.”

“Yes, ma’am, I under…” Ella pauses when she actually registers what Christie said. “Pardon?”

“You’re a good soldier, and you have potential to be a great squad leader. I fought to keep you here, mark my words.” Ella blinks, and chooses to keep her mouth shut rather than open it and get in further trouble. “Someone wants to cover their asses, those sons-of-bitches. That town should have been cleared before you went in. Someone messed up, and I’m sorry to say that you just so happened to be the easiest target.”

“Ma’am, I don’t understand why you’re telling me this.” Ella says quietly, looking around to see if anyone else was listening, even though they were the only ones in the room.

“I’m telling you because you deserve the truth. It isn’t fair what’s happening to you, and yes, I’m mad about it. But there’s nothing we can do right now, but I give you my word I’m looking into who’s playing politics in the middle of a war.” Everyone. Ella thinks, but knows better than to give that thought a voice.

“Thank you for your confidence, ma’am.”

“Tough it out, Masar, I’ll have you back here within the month.” Ella nodded gratefully. Christie could be terrifying sometimes, like yesterday when she mercilessly berated her for not treading carefully, for relying too heavily on air support to do their job correctly. But Ella never doubted Christie’s loyalty to her troops, and when she said she would have her and her soldiers back within the month, she believes her.

She finds Lori by her bunk, her arms folded around her chest and her jaws clenched tight. She barely gets a breath in before Lori flies in her face.

“Tell me you punched her in the face.”

“I didn’t punch anyone in the face.” Ella sighs, crashing onto her bunk. Lori balls her hand into a fist, like she was about to punch Ella for not doing it. “Orders came from higher up.” She leaves out what Christie told her, that it was some sort of political play from the different branches, and that she wound up drawing the short stick.

“How long?” Lori demands. “How long do they have you sitting with your thumbs up your ass doing nothing? Because the joke’s on them, they won’t win the war without you.” Ella actually smiles hearing that. Leave it to Lori to make her feel better about getting transferred.

“That’s not true.” She says. “You guys will do just fine. What’s a real crime here is how they have you on desk duty.” Lori taps her skull.

“Still evaluating me after that last brain injury. I should know by the end of the month if I’m field ready. In the mean time…” She gestures towards the pile of papers.

“War might be over by the end of the month.” Ella jokes and they both laugh. How absurd, it seemed, that the war would end any time soon.

 

~**~

 

 _Canadian Special Forces Member Diana Matheson_   
_2013-11-25 23:12_

“I spy with my little eyes...something white.” Erin McLeod hisses from her prone position on the top of the hill.

“Is it snow?” Diana asks dryly.

“How did you guess?” Diana only rolls her eyes and continues peering through her binoculars at the dimly light, barely occupied town miles away from their position.

“Your turn.” Erin prods.

“I spy with my eyes someone stupid.” Erin elbows her and snatches the binoculars from her hands. “Hey!”

“Look, I’m about to go blind staring at that dot of a town, ok? It’s my turn to see if there’s any activity.” Erin says.

“Shoulda brought your own.” Diana grumbles.

“We only have one pair.” Erin takes her turn watching for any movement and Diana rubs her eyes wearily. She turns on her back and exhales, her breath travelling in a great big cloud towards the endless sky.

“God, why don’t they do something?” Diana groans. The cold was about to freeze her toes off, and her back ached from being in the relatively same position for what felt like forever. Her eyes hurt, and all she wanted to do was head back to their temporary hideout, curl up next to the fire and sleep for just a couple of hours.They’d been on this reconnaissance mission for well over a day, and so far the town seemed dead. Technically, it wouldn’t be even worth clearing, there were so few soldiers. There were a dozen, maybe a little more, with minimal weapons. Yet here she was, sitting in cold snow next to Erin, observing their mundane patterns.

“It better be worth it.” She sighs.

“If Christine thinks so, I’ll trust her.” Erin replies before looking into the binoculars again. “Hey, there’s movement.” Diana snatches the binoculars from Erin’s hands and looks through. Sure enough, a large truck pulls up in front of the main building and several guards pile jump out. They enter through the doors, though the truck remains partially obscured by the building itself. Minutes pass with no further activity and Diana wonders if that was all the information they would get for the night. But soon the truck starts up again, and soldiers leave the building and climb in.

“We gotta move.” Diana orders when she sees the truck start to pull out towards the entrance of town. The two of them climb out of their makeshift tent and run towards the edge of their hill. The only road leading from town was just as the base of the hill. It would take the truck at least 15 minutes to get there.

“We need whatever is in that truck, so no explosives. We should be far enough away from town that they don’t hear out guns with silencers, but that means we need to take them out before they fire.” Diana says as they race down towards the road.

“Got it.” Once they hit the road, Diana pulls reaches into her backpack and pulls a carefully rolled length of barbed wire that would serve as a spike strip. She lays it in the road, its spikes protruding in the air.

“I see them.” Erin says, looking into the distance. “Hurry up.” Diana covers the barbed wire with a thin layer of snow, just enough to hide it.

“Let’s bail!” Diana calls and the two of them run a certain distance before taking shelter near a large boulder. They lay themselves prone and they ready their rifles. A minute goes by, and the roar of the truck engine fills the silence.

“There.” Erin whispers. They move very carefully as the truck nears their trap. “How many were there?”

“Six? Maybe seven? I couldn’t see how many climbed in, the building blocked my view.” Erin holds her gun close to her side.

Bang!

The truck’s tires pop and they watch the truck spin out on the icy road. It settles not too far from their position, a little close for Diana’s comfort. One small movement, and they could probably distinguish between their camo and snow.

Two soldiers climb out the back of the truck, yelling angrily. They stoop near the tires and inspect the damage done. A third gets out of the driver’s seat.

“That’s four.” Erin hisses. “I’ll take the driver and the one in the passenger, you get the two looking at the tires. Their yelling becomes frantic, and they reach for their guns. They know they’re not alone, that the damage to the tires was not an accident.

Diana stands and fires in one smooth motion. Erin makes a note to make fun of Diana for not being a very large target. She hides partly behind the boulder and clips the driver in the knee before taking the passenger in the trunk out with a couple of shots. Diana hits both of her targets in the chest, and three more jump out of the truck like shocked animals escaping a cage. Erin and Diana concentrate their fire on the last three, and all goes quiet. Diana looks back towards the direction of the town. In the middle of no where, even the sound of silenced rounds echoed a good distance. She holds her breath while Erin clambers on top of the truck and scopes things out.

“I don’t think they heard us. I don’t see any movement.” Erin says. Diana hurries towards the back of the truck and peers in. She flips on her flashlight and looks in. The back of the truck is empty, save for spare tires that they’ll need to change in just a second.

“Anything? Weapons? People?” Erin says as she hops down.

“Nothing. Must’ve been a relief unit or something.”

“Search the bodies.” Diana orders and the two of them begin searching the dead Sovvies for anything. They load the bodies into the truck, and pile the weapons on the side of the road.

“Got something.” Erin says after she checks the driver. She hands a folded piece of paper over to Diana, who looks it over. No good, she couldn’t read whatever was on the paper, though she could make out dates in the future.

“We’ll get Rhian to translate this. I think this is what Captain was looking for.” Diana says. They search the weapons, most of them outdated and near useless in a firefight. They take what was useful, pistols and ammo, and load the rest of the weapons in with the bodies. Erin climbs in the driver’s seat and Diana sticks the paper into her pocket for safekeeping and gets into the passenger. The truck takes a minute to start, and when Erin presses on the gas, it reluctantly lurches forward, its wheels a tattered mess..

“Alright, let’s see where the nearest river is, so we can dump all this shit.”

 

~**~

 

_1 Year Ago…_

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger_   
_2012-10-20 15:33_

_“There’s got to be a mistake.” Livid doesn’t even begin to describe Kyle’s demeanor. He charges through the hall, and it takes Ali throwing her whole weight against him to stop him in his tracks. “Let me go, they’ve made a mistake.”_

_“Kyle, Kyle they didn’t make a mistake.” Ali insists, standing in front of him with her arms outstretched to stop him from going a step forward. But she couldn’t tell him why she was so sure. She couldn’t tell him that she saw the notice on his bed first, and stormed into her commander’s office demanding to be transferred in his place. She got her wish._

_“They can’t take you, Ali. You do too much here.”_

_“So do you.” Ali points out._

_“Mom told me to keep an eye on you.”_

_“I’m old enough to take care of myself, Kyle.” She touches his arm tenderly._

_“Just come back to me.” He pulls her into a tight hug and holds onto her like it’ll keep her there. Ali held him tighter and they both knew, even if she was coming back from the front line, she wouldn’t be the same little sister he’d known all these years. The Ali he knew would not be coming back. When they finally pull away, Ali has to focus on something other than Kyle’s face to prevent herself from crying. He pulls his dog tags off of his neck, and frees one of them._

_“Here.” He says, holding the one out. “Tradsies.” Ali laughs, and hands him one of her own. He puts the dog tags back around his neck, under his shirt and pats them where they lay over his sternum. “You’ll be here. And I’ll be with you.” He promises._

_“As long as they don’t think I’m Kyle Krieger by mistake.” Ali jokes and Kyle pulls her into another hug. He lifts her in the air, and she clings on for dear life._

_~**~_

_She packs the rest of her belonging in a small backpack, consisting only of a small novel she’s already read end to end three times, and toiletries. The rest of her stuff had already been sent ahead to her new post, and the room looks sad and barren, a far cry from when she first walked in and sun poured through the window, highlighting the opportunity ahead. She hears footsteps fast approaching her from the hall, and thinks maybe it's Kyle again, trying in his own way, to find a way for her to stay._

_She’s worked with Ashlyn long enough to know her knock._

_“Corporal.” She greets before she even turns around. She didn’t even realize how accustomed she’d become to Ashlyn’s visits until Ashlyn looks at her quizzically, like she has eyes on the back of her head. She clears her throat. “Is there something I can help you with?” Ashlyn looked around the room at the lack of her belongings, and her eyes soften more than Ali’s ever seen._

_“You’re being transferred, aren’t you?” She asks._

_“You know how I feel about rumors.” Ali says with a weak smile, but the emptiness in her room gives her away. “Yes, I was reassigned to Bulgaria. They haven’t told me what I will be doing there, other than leading a platoon in combat.”_

_“I’ll put in my reassignment request, ma’am.”_

_“Corporal, no. You have no reason to go there, you’ll only get yourself killed. It is safe here, and you have important missions to do here.”_

_“Ma’am, with all due respect it isn’t your decision. I promised you I would stand by your side if you transferred, and I am a woman of my word.”_

_“Ashlyn, no. They won’t let you.” Not, “I won’t let you,” not “I don’t want you there”, not “I don’t need you” Her choice of words spoke volumes and Ashlyn understood._

_“I’ll see you in Bulgarian, ma’am.”_

~**~

 _Brigadier General Hope Solo_   
_2013-11-25 13:44_

She has a team stuck just a few miles outside the base, she has POW from the legendary Company 20 being held roughly thirty miles away, the last few requests for more troops had just been rejected, and now she has reports that the last platoon she dispatched came back looking closer to swiss cheese than a force to be reckoned with.

“Thirty.” She sighs, looking at the report. “Three dead, thirty injured.” She slams her hand down on the desk, startling the platoon leader in front of her. “How the hell did this go so wrong?!”

“They had superior numbers and artillery, ma’am. But we got the job done, that town’s ours.”

“And what, you’re going to keep it with thirty able-bodied men and women?” Hope snaps. “Order them back. It won’t be long before the Sovvies come back and kill off the rest of them.”

“Why can’t we send more troops there?” Her platoon leader asks. It’s a valid question, but they’re running on barebones units already. They couldn’t afford to send more troops to take over a point on the supply route, however important. And they needed to avoid more casualties to stay afloat.

“Look around you, if you can pick out any free troops, feel free.” Hope says angrily. “I’m ordering your retreat.” Her platoon leader nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He walks out of her room, clearly perturbed by her decision. She stares again at the report and sighs. That was thirty two more able bodied soldiers she could’ve used somewhere else. How did they get their intel so wrong?

She needs to walk, and to get fresh air and reassess what troops she does have and what she can use. Her first plan of attack would be to reclaim that supply route. They’d empty the town of all their artillery, and the Sovvies would be stupid to send too many of their own to reclaim something they’d already lost. She’d regroup her thinly spread troops, and send them right back.

The courtyard hums with chatter and engines roaring to life. She strolls quietly, nodding to acknowledge the soldiers that formally greet her along the way. She passes by bunkers 21 when she sees Private Kelley O’Hara heave her heavy duffle bag onto the ground. When Kelley spots Hope, she immediately stands at attention and salutes formally. She recognizes Kelley, always bright-eyed with a smile quick on hand in the few instances she saw her. She remembered her from the reports, where she and her other two squadmates were the only survivors in many of their battles.

“General Solo.”

“At ease.” The dufflebag confuses her. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Relocated, ma’am.” Kelley says, as she runs in to grab her backpack. Hope eyes her curiously. She didn’t look hurt.

“Relocated?” Kelley drops her equally heavy backpack on the ground next to her.

“Yes, ma’am. Didn’t you order it?”

“I didn’t order anything. Who else is being reassigned?” She demands. Kelley blinks in surprise, but she quickly recovers.

“My squad, ma’am, or at least the uninjured ones. Private Alex Morgan, Private Tobin Heath, Private Zakiya Bywaters, myself, and our commander Staff Sergeant Ella Masar are all being reassigned to a small post near the Ukraine border, near Ilyin?” Hope’s mind reels. She racks her brain, trying to remember if she had signed orders for them to be transferred, but she could not come up with a single one. Why on earth were competent troops being assigned to what was essentially a dead post? She had almost forgotten it existed.

Something didn’t feel right. That combined with the bitterness still on her tongue after this morning made Hope wonder what was happening with her troops.

“Who gave you the order?” She asks again.

“Captain Rampone gave the official orders to Sergeant Masar yesterday afternoon, ma’am.” Rampone. Hope bites the inside of her cheek. Christie was not one to hand out orders without informing her first, and she was by no means authorized to reassign soldiers. Something about the whole thing pricks at Hope the wrong way.

“Carry on.” She says. “And safe travels.” Kelley nods and salutes again as Hope leaves. It took all her control not to sprint into Christie’s office, but she enters with fire burning in her eyes.

“Care to fill me in on what the hell is going on with Masar and her girls?” Christie looks up from her desk and tucks the letter away. Hope catches a glimpse of the name written on top, “Reese and Riley.” Her eyes flicks over to where Christie hung a picture of her two daughters before turning back to Christie.

“Sorry?” Christie asks, standing.

“Masar. I just heard that Staff Sergeant Ella Masar and what remains of her squad are to be transferred to the middle of nowhere and I’m already hurting for numbers.” Hope clenches her teeth and fists, angry that someone had tried to go behind her back.

“I have my orders.”

“From whom?” Hope demands.

“That’s need to know only, General Solo, ma'am. Orders came from above you.” Christie says the last part deliberately and slowly and instantly Hope knows exactly who she means. The bitterness on her tongue returns tenfold and her ears buzz. Oh she’s going to kill him and make it look like the Sovvies somehow got in.

~**~

Major General Greg Ryan’s office screams typical war hero. His badges and awards line one wall, and pictures of him in various uniforms, and meeting various political figures, celebrities, and ambassadors line another. Hope hates reporting to him because it’s like a figurative dick-slap in the face to be in his office.

It doesn’t stop her from charging in.

“What the hell are you doing?” She shouts, throwing the doors open. His sad excuse for a secretary follows in behind him, begging her to stop. His eyebrows lift, half in surprise, half in amusement and he stands slowly. He nods for his secretary to leave, and she does so quickly, unwilling to partake in the verbal battle clearly about to ensue.

“Close the door.” He says. She slams the door shut.

“Why the hell did you order five good soldiers to be transferred? I need every last man I can get, and I can’t afford to have a good commander and experienced infantry shipped to freeze in the snow.”

“I assume you’re talking about Staff Sergeant Ella Masar and her squad?”

“Who else have you reassigned without telling me?” Hope sneers. Greg smirks, like he’s prepared for this moment and he sits calmly.

“They messed up. We gave Masar the easiest mission in the book, and she came back with one dead and only four uninjured. You tell me why we reassigned her.”

“I read the report, she did nothing wrong. She was ambushed by scouts. Why didn’t our air take care of it? That’s who you should reassign, our air. The towns were supposed to be…” The smirk vanishes from Greg’s face and he stand quickly, his demeanor completely changed.

“I suggest you drop the subject, General Solo.” His voice sounds completely different from the flippant attitude he had before and Hope quiets only because she realizes that she’s onto something. Air didn’t do their job, that much was certain. Was Greg trying to shift the blame to a rookie commander?

“You give her back, you understand.”

“That’s out of the question. She can reapply for transfer back in a few months, until then she stays put.” Hope clamps her mouth shut, knowing when to back off. “I have work to do, and so do you, finding replacements for them. You are one squad short, so you’d do best to stop blaming other people for your own troops’ shortcomings and find a capable squad to take their place.” She salutes, more out of protocol than actual respect, and turns to leave.

"And don't forget." He calls out after her. "I'm watching your operation, the rescue of our Company 20 POW. Your evaluation is coming up soon. With your inablility to pick out good leaders, I will be seeing how your 'Pink Berets' handle such a delicate matter." She turns around, and it's everything she can do not to knock out several of his teeth.

"You have nothing to worry about sir, we'll get our POW out of there safe."

 

~**~

 

_1 Year Ago_

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger_   
_2012-11-04 08:00_

 

_Most of her platoon look new, freshly deployed to the front lines. The stripes on their arms mask their inexperience with actual combat, she can see it in their eyes. Ali scans the group and wonders how they'll fare. She could sense the restlessness brewing under the skins of higher ups. They wanted action, the war was taking too long, and everyone wanted a definitive win._

_She sees familiar faces too. They gave her some of the soldiers she served with back in Germany. Specialist Kathryn Hill, Ryan Mann, Corporal Ashlyn Harris..._

_She stops when she sees that familiar shock of bleached hair and more distinctively, the unconcealed smirk when Ali meets her eye. So they had listened to Ashlyn's request to be transferred with Ali. She wondered if Ashlyn knew that she would not play the role of reconnaissance here. She would hold a gun more often than not. But she’d come a long way from that soldier Ali met with Kyle, and Ali had grown accustomed her somewhat bizarre personality. She was a good soldier, a solid soldier to have. She did her job well, prevented many deaths and on more than one occasion Ali's._

_She averts her gaze and looks at other faces, stoically staring forward. Today was just day one. How many of them would look so eager after the days to come?_

_"Welcome to Company 20.”_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

~**~

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar  
2013-11-26 04:44_

"Just hang in there." Lori throws her arms around Ella's shoulders. Ella leans into her chest, and they watch the sunset rise over the distant hills, staining everything bright red. "Write, ok?" They stand, overlooking their base on their last watch together.

"If they can get a donkey out there to pick up my letters." They laugh, because it’s the only thing they can do. The fresh sunlight warms their faces, and she can hear the stirrings down below. It wouldn’t be long before the morning bell sounded, and the courtyard would fill with activity, including her squad packing up and moving out.

She hates feeling like she failed them somehow. She hates the looks on their faces and she remembers what Lori told her yesterday about the three privates. Maybe they were cursed, after all it seemed that no one was getting out unscathed.

No, it was exactly that kind of thinking that was going to get her squad killed if they were ever deployed in active combat again. She shakes her head to clear her mind. They were good soldiers and she would trust her life with them.

“Well, time to head down.” Lori sighs when she hears footsteps on the stairs. She helps Ella to her feet and the two of them exchange tired hellos to their relief watchmen. Lori walks with her arms draped around Ella’s shoulders comfortingly.

“You’ll be killing enough Sovvies for us both.” Ella grins, bumping her hip with her own. Lori laughs and bumps her back hard enough for her to stumble forward. Ella’s smile hurts, because she’ll miss this easy camaraderie. She’ll miss Lori having her back no matter what.

Her squad is already loading up the truck with supplies meant for the post along with their own personal effects.

“Morning, ma’am.” They say in unison. Ella nods to them.

“Morning.” Her voice cracks just a little and she coughs crisp winter air. “You all ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be, ma’am.” Alex replies, heaving a sack of flour into the truck. Ella watches them take trip after trip like pack mules. That’s really what they were, Ella thinks bitterly, they were pack mules, they were being treated no better than supply units.

“Hey.” Lori snaps her out of her growing anger. “Hey, trust Rampone, ok? She get this all figured out.” Ella sighs again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

~**~

_Sergeant First Class Becky Sauerbrunn  
2013-11-26 10:29_

“They look so sad.” Sydney comments, watching Ella Masar and her squad say their goodbyes. Kristie glances over briefly before continuing to check her ammo and loading another magazine it into her bandoleer.

“Hey, we have our own issues to worry about.” Megan notes and Sydney turns back to her gun.

“So what do you think? All this for one POW who’s been rotting in a cell for a year?” Carli asks.

“Hey, a POW is a POW.” Lauren says. Carli hold her hands, black from grease, out in defense.

“I’m not saying it’s not worth it. I’m just saying, I am personally suspicious. Why haven’t they killed him yet?”

“Or her.” Sydney points out.

“Or her.” Carli agrees. “I mean, do they want to use him, or her, to barter or something? Why would they hold someone this long?”

“You thinking it’s a trap or something?” Kristie asks.

“No, Hope wouldn’t send us in unless she was 100% certain.” Carli replies confidently. “Just wondering why this one survived, and no one else.”

“If you have time to chat, you must all be done, right?” Becky asks, walking into their little bunk. Everyone immediately goes quiet, and focuses completely on their individual tasks, preparing for the raid tonight. Becky hands out small paper maps to everyone.

“Terrain of the area.” She says. “I’ve taken the liberty to mark our route. Rapinoe, the x is where you’ll be camping.” Megan nods as she studies the map. “We’ll be leaving within the hour, get to our location and survey the town, get a feel of the activity.” Becky scans over her crew, looking at them busily prepare for the mission at hand. What she didn’t tell them was what Hope had said to her directly.

“ _Everyone’s watching this mission. All those high up asses are banking on you to fail. Don’t fail.”_

Becky felt the weight of Hope’s words sit on her shoulders. She wasn’t sure what Hope dealt with behind the scenes, but something certainly was brewing that she didn’t like. They were supposed to be rooting for success, not failure.

“Shit!” Megan drops a magazine on the ground and she curses the whole time she stoops to pick it up. Becky watches as she fumbles again, completely uncharacteristic of the otherwise careful, precise soldier. What bothered her more was the distant, panicking look in her eyes,

“Rapinoe, outside.” Becky orders and Megan steps outside their bunk. Becky waits until another soldier in the hallway picks up on her wordless message and leaves the area before speaking.

“Something bothering you?” She asks.

“No, ma’am.” Megan’s never been good at lying. She fidgets too much. If anything Becky was glad she had such an honest bunch, though they would be terrible at any sort of deep cover mission.

“I need my sharp shooter completely focused. If everything goes to shit out there, we need you to bail us out, as always.” Becky presses. “So I need to know if you’re going to get the job done.” Megan sighs.

“Sorry, ma’am. A few friends of mine were in Company 20.” It’s really all she needs to say. Becky’s eyes soften immediately. Of course. “I know, the likelihood of the POW being one of my friends is near zero, but you just...you have hope, especially with so many missing in action.”

“I know how you feel. I knew people in Company 20 too and you don’t know how much I’m hoping for their safety. But that makes it more important that I need all of you there.” Megan takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She steadies herself mentally, so when her eyes open again, the look in them is determined once more.

“I have our backs, ma’am.” She says confidently. Becky pats her on the shoulder, and they rejoin the rest of the group.

~**~

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger  
2012-11-19 19:53_

_Sochi. They were attacking Sochi directly. Ali Krieger leans back in her chair and stares at the ceiling, her orders stale on her table and the announcement fresh on her tongue and ears. How long did her superiors debate that? How long did they ponder the loss of life from this operation? They wanted another D-Day, they wanted to win no matter what it took, no matter how many people it took._

_She thinks of the resigned silence when she announced it to her troops earlier that afternoon. Most of them had been expecting this, some lived in a constant state of denial. A part of her wishes she could join them. But she needs a clear mind if she wants to lead any of her troops to victory and survival._

_A bitter laugh creeps up in her throat. There weren't going to be very many survivors. She forces herself onto her desk, and starts writing mechanically. She writes to Kyle first, wondering if news of their orders has spread back to Germany or if he will be informed once it is over, once they return his dog tag back to him._

_"I love you Kyle." It's the first thing she writes, and she writes it again when she reaches the end of the letter. The whole thing sounded somber, like she is never coming back. She writes something similar to her mother and father, and she folds it small envelopes. For a while she stares at her letters, fully aware that this could be the last bit of contact she will have with her family._

_The frustration eats at her until she has to leave her room, like she could escape the orders given to her._

_Unnerving silence greets her in the hallway. Usually there would be men and women running up and down the halls, playing cards or other games. Instead, as she walks by the various rooms, soldiers sit hunched over in their bunks, writing, reading letters, or staring off into space. The ones who made eye contact had a resigned, dulled look in their eyes and Ali bit her tongue so hard, she tasted blood._

_They were all so young._

_When she passes by bunk 12, she sees a similar sight, a soldier hunched over in her bunk, but it’s the overwhelming smell of strong liquor that stops her in her tracks. Fury bubbles in her chest and she storms into the room._

_“Soldier!” She yells. She recognizes the bleached hair anywhere. Ashlyn's a little difficult at times, but always respectful and polite so it surprises her when Ashlyn looks over, already visibly drunk, and grins._

_“Lieutenant.” She greets casually._

_“Get up!” She orders. Not one to outright disobey, Ashlyn hobbles to her feet. “Explain yourself.” Ashlyn stares at the bottle in her hands, and then sloppily grins._

_“Ma'am, I’m sure you understand. With this news and all." She scoffs and shakes her head. “T-Day. So unoriginal.” Ashlyn sways while Ali crosses her arms disapprovingly._

_"You aren’t supposed to have that." She remembers New Year when they drank apple juice._

_"It’s our last night before they ship us to our deaths. Everyone is drinking, and those who aren’t are writing to their loved ones before they do. I’m just doing it in the open." Ashlyn replies. She holds out the bottle. "You done writing?" Ali touches her pocket, the letters crinkle a little._

_"Show respect for your superior officer." She snaps but Ashlyn holds the bottle out in front of her._

_"Join me."_

_"I could have you discharged."_

_"You’d be saving my ass. But they won’t discharge me. I’m a body to throw on the beach." She’s right and Ali grinds her teeth. She eyes the bottle warily. Ashlyn pokes it with her finger before Ali looks behind her and sits down. She’s drinking before Ashlyn gets a laugh out._

_Fuck it. They could court martial her for all she cared. They settle in, with Ali’s back facing the door to buy them some time if someone saw them. They take turns swapping, like that night back in Germany._

_"So who did you write to?" Ashlyn asks, the facade of commander and soldier dropped completely._

_"My father, my mother."_

_"Kyle?" The thought of Kyle brings a smile to Ali’s face and she tucks the bottle of liquor under her chin wistfully. They both miss the same thing._

_"Germany."_

_"Like a second home." Ali sighs. Images of her small bunk, the white sheets billowing in the breeze, the sunset over their small village, the sound of children laughing in the streets. It made her miss Germany. It made her miss her brother._

_"You have a man back home waiting?" The question catches Ali off guard and she stumbles over her words in an effort to say "no."_

_"What? Man? Like…oh, no." She says quickly. Ashlyn laughs again, and it’s something Ali never saw before. She seems quick to amuse and be amused, and her smile was more ready than not. She had wondered what her troops were like outside of the war, and on the eve of their deployment, it seemed like she was finally glimpsing the real personality at least one of her soldiers._

_"Why did you follow me?" Ali asks despite herself. The question had been burning in her mind ever since they landed. Why had Ashlyn requested transfer from safety? Why had she given up a perfectly good position when it was heavily implied by everyone that transferring meant heavy combat._

_"I’d follow you anywhere." Ashlyn says quietly, so quietly that the implication thunders in Ali’s ears along with the crash of blood and booze. Was her subordinate flirting with her? It was hard to tell whether the softness of the statement had any other meaning than unquestionable loyalty. But the ambiguity of her delivery highlighted something else._

_It was the last night they had and all Ali wanted was to touch someone and be touched in return. She wanted comfort, a pat, a hug, something to let her know she was wanted, and would be missed. She needed some lingering feeling on her skin to power her through what might be her last days._

_The way Ashlyn stared at her made her wonder if she was willing to help. Ashlyn scoots closer, and Ali’s heart thuds against her chest. Ashlyn leans towards her, and Ali follows her gaze. They swallow at the same time, and Ashlyn brushes her pinky across the back of her hand, sending shivers down Ali’s spine. Their hands reach for each other, and it’s everything Ali wanted on their last day. Ashlyn’s hand is warm against hers, and they sit there, with trivial space between them, holding hands for comfort and strength._

~**~

_Canadian Special Forces Member Christine Sinclair  
2013-11-26 00:48_

“Sweet Jesus, it’s colder than home.”

“So who’s the new kid?” Melissa ‘Tanc’ Tancredi asks with a smirk as a thin, tall blond woman shuffles into their temporary hold in an abandoned barn several miles from the next base, friend or foe.

“Kaylyn Kyle. She’ll be joining us on our next mission.” Christine Sinclair says, welcoming her into the circle. Kaylyn waves at them, and Tanc rolls her eyes before going back to cleaning the parts of her gun. “Kaylyn, that’s Melissa Tancredi, everyone calls her Tanc, the curly haired one over by the boxes is our team strategist, Carmelina Moscato.”

“Welcome to the team.” Carm says, waving back at her.

“Lauren Sesselmann, our big guns expert, not that we use them that often for what we do. Rhian Wilkinson, our main translator, in case we need to converse with civvies. And…” No sooner did Sinclair finish with the introductions did the door burst open.

“We got it, Cap.” Diana Matheson rushes in, closely tailed by an equally out of breath Erin McLeod. Tired and gasping as they were, they both grinned from ear to ear. Diana held a thin tube in her hands and she tossed it towards Sinclair, who looked pleasantly, though downright shocked.

“You did?”

“Please, they hardly saw us coming.”

“No one can see you coming.” Tanc laughs to herself, earning a glare from Diana.

“Strike one.” She hisses through clenched teeth. Erin claps Diana on the shoulders, laughing along with Tanc.

“Oh come on, you gotta admit, no one else could fit in that hole besides you.”

“Hole?” Kaylyn inquires. The two of them turn and blink when they see the newcomer.

“Who’s the new kid?” Tanc bursts into laughter and Kaylyn blushes so heavily her face matches the color of the well worn Canadian flag pinned to Diana’s sleeve.

“Kaylyn, meet our top reconnaissance experts, Diana Matheson and Erin McLeod.” The two of them nodded to greet her. “Kaylyn will be joining us for our future missions.”

“What we can’t figure out is why.” Tanc mutters to herself, looking the stick of a girl up and down.

“That’s what you said when you first saw me.” Diana notes pointedly. A second of tension passes between the two, broken only by the grin on Tanc’s face to show that Diana had her there. Diana walks over to the table where the pieces of Tanc’s gun lay in two piles; clean and yet to be cleaned. She pours herself a cup of water from the tin pitcher and claps Tanc on the back hard enough for her to drop the spring on the ground.

“Kaylyn’s our charges expert.”

Diana almost does a spit take.

“Charges?” Rhian asks.

“Yeah, whatever you need blown up, I’m your girl.” Kaylyn announced proudly.

“Well that’s useful.” Erin says with some measure of surprise. Uncomfortable silence fills the room quickly, like none of them trusted the girl not to blow them up right then and there. Kaylyn pats her bag and everyone flinches, Christine included.

“Don’t worry about it, guys. I’ve got seven years active training under my belt.”

“Training…” Tanc says slowly.

“Command told us she was the best. And we’re going to need her for the upcoming tasks.” Christine tries to reassure, though her nervous smile, meant to be confident, only served to unnerve her teammates more. Kaylyn on the other hand, remained blissfully unaware of the tentative greeting she’d been given.

“Speaking of…” She nods towards the tube in Christine Sinclair’s hand. Christine unravels it on the table. “What is that thing anyway?” Christine motions for Rhian to come closer, and she points to a few of the times and words on the paper.

“Schedule.” Rhian answers. “This is a schedule of deliveries.”

“Make our life easier.” Carm says, shifting from one foot to the other. Christine and Rhian pour over the document, with Christine making notes on her own scraps of paper. The others busy themselves, either with cleaning guns or keeping watch by the cracks in the barn. For a few days now, this had been their hideaway and it seemed far enough away from everything that the Sovvies didn’t bother checking inside. That wasn’t to say they didn’t have any close encounters, but any unfortunate Sovvie scout passing by now lay in a shallow grave covered by a couple of feet of rock hard snow.

“Ok, I think we have a plan in place.” Christine announces after a half an hour passes. She unfolds a map on top of the schedule and ushers everyone in close. “Kaylyn’s new, so she doesn’t know the details of this operation. We have a captive situation in this town right here.” Christine points to a fairly large cluster of buildings on the hand drawn map, the result of many nights scouting the area. “Our goal is to get in there and rescue. We have the advantage here, there aren’t too many soldiers stationed here, mostly a small, focused group. According to our intel, no more than a dozen or so people. Very off the radar.”

“How long have they been there?” Kaylyn asks.

“Roughly a year?”

“Why have we waited this long to rescue a captive?”

“A long story.’” Tanc replies curtly. Christine shoots her a glare for her attitude.

“We didn’t get anything until recently. Suffice to say, once we had a location and a target, it became our top priority to rescue our captive.”

“And what do I do?” Kaylyn asks.

“Diversion. If all goes well, we’ll be able to get our guy into our truck, but they’re not going to let us out without checking it. We’ll need a way out, so on our way in, you’ll set charges at the gate. When we’re ready to bail, we’ll need a path and we’ll book it out of there.” Christine makes a motion with her hands mimicking an explosion. “Everyone know what we’re doing?” Everyone nods, and Kaylyn touches her pouch.

“Jesus, please stop doing that.” Diana snaps as the rest of them flinch again. Kaylyn laughs nervously, and decides to sit down and keep still until the morning.

~**~

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger  
2012-11-21 13:55_

_Ali slams her back into the wall as bullets ricochet around her. She stares helplessly at the rest of her platoon. Most of them lay motionless at the front of the ruined building, and the ones that weren’t dead already lay breathing their last breath._

_“Fuck.” She reaches for a grenade only to find her bandoleer empty. She can almost hear the footsteps of the enemy soldiers bearing down on her._

_“Need this?” A familiar voice asks. From behind a large slab of concrete, Ashlyn holds a grenade in her hand. Just seeing Ashlyn’s face had a calming effect. So she was still alive._

_“I thought I had lost you in the fray!” Ali yells. Ashlyn grins._

_“I had your back the whole time.” She pulls the pin and waits for the next group of soldiers to get within range. As soon as they are, she lobs the grenade into the middle of their group and the two of them plug their ears and get down. The explosion that follows covers them both with dirt and rocks._

_A bullet pings off the steel beams above them and Ali cries out in pain when it sinks into her knee. Ashlyn scrambles over, dodging bullets as she moves from cover to cover._

_“Ah, shit, shit!” Ali sobs, placing her hand over the bleeding wound._

_“Just hold it, just hold it there.” Ashlyn peers around the corner and the look on her face turns hard._

_“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Ali asks. Ashlyn turns her attention back._

_“Can you walk?” She asks. “We need to get out of here.” Ashlyn tries to stand with Ali’s arms around her shoulder, but Ali cries out in pain, and bullets fly past their head too close for them to stand comfortably._

_“Go.” Ali orders. “Go.”_

_“Not a chance.” Ashlyn snaps before unloading another few rounds into the oncoming enemy. She watches with determined eyes at what must be a huge number._

_“Corporal…”_

_"Permission to speak freely sir." Ashlyn asks. Ali almost laughs aloud. A hundred soldiers were on top of them, about to gun them down and Ashlyn still had the courtesy, the respect to ask permission._

_"Go ahead, corporal." Ali humors her above the barrage of gunfire. What was she going to say? Was she going to insult her commanding officer for leading them on this suicide mission? For not seeing the ambush before half her company was gunned down? She certainly had reason to insult her._

_"I love you." Ali isn’t sure if it’s the words or the grenade that knock the wind out of her._

_The blast knocks her against the wall as she’s in the middle of saying “What?”. The world goes dark for a moment and when it comes back, she sees Ashlyn’s boots near her face. She hears the sound of a bullet hitting soft, wet flesh and Ashlyn makes a pained, gurgling noise. Blood pools near her hip._

_"Don’t you dare die." Ali thinks as she struggles to control her body. "I need answers."_

_There’s a few moments when the next grenade knocks the sound from Ali’s ears and all she can hear is the steady pounding of her blood as she tries her best to reach Ashlyn. There’s so much blood that her sleeves stain dark before she gets within touching distance._

_Ali hauls herself to Ashlyn’s side._

_"Corporal Ashlyn Harris…of company 20, reporting for…" Ashlyn manages just that, a smirk plastered on her face._

_Ashlyn has her hand on her hip and her other hand shakes as she draws her pistol. Ali reaches out…_

_What would it have been like if they weren’t there, if Ali hadn’t been drafted, or if the war never happened. Would they have met in real life? Would Ashlyn have looked her way?_

_Ali places her hand on Ashlyn’s and the two of them stare quietly at each other. Ashlyn wraps her fingers around Ali’s, just like she did two nights ago. Ali had no doubt._

_She would’ve fallen for her in a world where birds instead of bullets soared through empty skies. Where they could’ve awkwardly danced around each other until it all boiled over in a tumble of words, confessions, and intimacy. Instead of trenches, it would’ve been trees and hammocks, and lying in each other’s arms. Instead of guns they’d shoot fireworks at in New York on New Year’s Eve. They would drink real champagne and kiss at midnight._

_Fire blooms around them like the flowers they never had the chance to trade and the ground opens up to swallow them whole._

~**~

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar  
2013-11-26 15:23_

The hum of the engines does everything to lull Zakiya to sleep, but the other four can’t close their eyes. Minds occupied, and hearts heavy, the four remaining members of Ella’s squad, Ella included, stare off into the distant white hills as it endlessly rolls on by.

“Lots of snow out here.” Tobin says, unable to think of anything else.

“Yeah. I hope the base has plenty of heat. Some of these towns, man.” Kelley says quietly.

“It’ll be heated.” Ella reassures, though she’s not sure how. She’s not sure if they’d have to get up in the morning to go find wood. She’s not sure whether or not they’ll have enough blankets, and her meager dufflebag seems more and more insufficient by the minute.

Two hours roll by, and Zakiya still slumbers quietly. Tobin and Alex made their own fun with a pack of cards, and for a little while it seems like it’ll be ok. Kelley laughs when Alex throws her cards onto the ground in frustration when she loses the hand, and Tobin scoops up the card to reshuffle.

“Deal me in.” Kelley says, reaching for some cards. Tobin tosses her seven, and the three of them huddle together. Ella contents herself by watching the hills roll by outside. The snow makes everything a little too bright when the sun reflects off of the white surface, but even so something glints in the distance that catches Ella’s attention. She leans forward against the passenger seat to get a better look at it. It doesn’t reflect like ice, it shines darker, like metal. Her eyes narrow as her brain churns trying to figure out exactly what it is.

She sees smoke and everything in her brain clicks.

“FUCK! EVERYONE OUT RIGHT NOW!” Ella screams, throwing herself to the back of the truck and kicking open the back door of their truck. She grabs Zakiya with one hand, who jolts out of sleep, and Kelley with her other and throws them out of the vehicle. Tobin and Alex don’t question her and immediately tuck and roll out. Ella moves to shout at the driver, but the driver hits a pothole and Ella tumbles out before she can get the words off her tongue.

A second later a rocket hits their vehicle and sends a fireball billowing towards the clear Russian sky.


	4. Chapter 4

 Chapter 4

~**~

_First Lieutenant Ali Krieger  
2012-11-23 ??:??_

_Ali gets used to the dark within the first two hours she wakes up. A man in a broken English accent tells her that she’s been out for a half a day. She gets used to the constant ringing in her ears from the blast in the same time, though that goes away by the time Ashlyn stirs._

_She doesn't get used to how hot Ashlyn is._

_Ashlyn burns, and Ali makes a makeshift bandage from the thin blanket they tossed her way when she first woke in the basement-turned-prison. The man with rough, heavily accented English let her know that they were officially prisoners of war. Their contempt and reluctance to waste resources such as food and water on them lets her know they couldn't care less if they live or die._

_Ashlyn burns longer than the ringing lasts in Ali's ears and she screams for water, for ice, for anything to bring the temperature boiling Ashlyn's innards down. She resorts to pressing Ashlyn's forehead against the cooler stone, and laying next to her when it gets too cold. But Ashlyn shakes, and cries, and writhes until she has no more energy to move._

_She needs help. She needs a medic, antiseptic. She needs to have the bullet removed or she was going to die. Ali screams until she meets the blunt end of a rifle and a stern warning that the next time she’d see the other end._

_Ashlyn continues burning and Ali pleads with her to stay. Only Ashlyn's hands, squeezing Ali's tightly despite how faint the rest of her strength has dwindled, tells Ali she's still alive._

_"Let me go."_

_It's the last thing Ashlyn says to her before they take her away. Her grip slackens after two days and Ali forgets how to let go and she doesn't want to remember. She clings harder for every second Ashlyn weakens until her breathing is so shallow she can't tell if she's actually breathing. But she convinces herself she has to be._

_She doesn't let go until her guards pry her hands off of Ashlyn, and she gets reaquainted with the rifle as a club. They carry Ashlyn out, two guards holding her arms and legs like a strung up pig for slaughter. When they open the door, it's the first light Ali sees, and it's only for a second, brightened when it reflects off of Ashlyn's bleach blond hair._

_She can see her roots._

_They'll have to redo them when they get back to base._

  
  


~**~

_Brigadier General Hope Solo  
2013-11-26 17:44_

"It doesn't sit right." Hope paces angrily in Christie's bunk. She sits one second, then stands, then walks over to the window. Her gaze falls across the courtyard at Greg Ryan's office and she slams her hand on the wall. Christie looks up from her letter and sighs.

"I don't like it either." She says.

"They're hiding something." Hope says firmly. "You should've seen the way he got defensive when I told him our air messed up." Christie kisses pictures of her daughters and sets them down on her desk. "Is that Reese and Rylie?"

"She just had her first soccer practice. Cried the whole time." Christie smiles lovingly at the photo of her little blond daughter in cleats, red-nosed and red-eyed in a tiny kit, a frown on her face.

"They must miss you." Hope says tenderly.

"They do. And I miss them." She sighs and pushes her chair away from the desk. "So the sooner we win the sooner I get to go home and drive her to her soccer practices." She turns and faces Hope, and her face turns serious.

"I don't agree with what Greg did either." She says. "But what are you suggesting?"

"I want records of the strike. I want to see who gave the orders, what the pilots had to say, what equipment they were using. I want to see what went wrong. This isn't Sergeant Masar's fault and we both know it. She's taking the fall for someone else."

"Hope." Christie stands up and puts a hand on her shoulder. "What are you looking for?" Hope shrugs off her hand and sits on her bed. "It's just us." Christie reassures. "Friend to friend, what's really going on?"

"Something's going on. I know for a fact Greg doesn't like me. I've got troops dropping left and right and I need reinforcements. Greg isn't giving me shit. It's like he wants me to fail, so he can argue that I'm not fit for this position." Christie leans back in her chair. Her expression darkens and she regards Hope quietly.

"I don't like people playing politics on the battlefield but I'm not about to question my XO and speaking person to person, we need to trust each other."

"So you're not going to help me." Hope interjects.

"I'm not going to help you prove that Greg wants you out." Christine says carefully. "But I will help you prove Ella didn't do anything wrong. Whatever crusade you have against Greg, think about your troops first."

"You don't need to tell me that." Hope deflates and her shoulders slacken. "So you'll see about trying to get some info?"

"Honestly you're the higher ranking officer, you'll have an easier time."

"He's watching." Hope realizes how paranoid she sounds and she dips her head down but Christie takes it in stride.

"I'll see what I can do." She says. Hope gets up and thanks her with a smile. Her hands barely touch the handle of Christie's bunk when Christie warns her again. "This is to get Ella back." Hope's silence means she understands.

When Hope gets to her office, she half expects to have a message waiting on her phone but the light remains off. She checks her watch and looks at her phone again. Ella and her squad should have arrived at the outpost, and the soldiers were supposed to message that they’d been received. Their projected arrival put them at the outpost at least a half an hour ago. Something in Hope’s stomach churned, and she sat down at her chair, hoping that they’d simply had some mechanical failure, or that they’d gotten stuck in a snow bank.

Her instincts, though, have not failed her yet. She just wants this to be the first time they did.

~**~

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar  
2013-11-26 19:49_

Zakiya has it the worst. She ran until the blood froze solid on her pants, and it hurt too much to move. She’d cut her ankle on bits of shrapnel from the truck, and they did what they could to stop the bleeding. Ella’s head swam, the breath and coherency knocked from her body by the blast. She couldn’t hear out of one ear, and she wasn’t sure that would go away. It all felt like a blur when the truck exploded. She remembered shouting something, though whether what she shouted was actually orders, or just babble was still to be determined. Alex, Tobin, and Kelley fell into position, though Ella wondered at the time if they were just acting on good instincts.

They run, it’s all they can do. There’s enough bullets flying at them that they know they’re outnumbered at least 3 to 1. The other three do their best to cover Ella as she helps Zakiya stumble through the snow.

"It hurts." Zakiya hisses.

"I know. I know, come on stay with me." Ella begs. She thinks of Lockhart and it spurs her on. She finds strength and bends down on her knees. She lifts Zakiya over her shoulders and breaks into a jog. It's slow, and her legs burn, but it's faster than before. Zakiya whimpers from pain, but she holds it in as best as she can.

"How far are they?!" Ella demands.

"Little less than a click!" Alex replies. Ella wonders why they were so far behind when they had an injured person slowing them down. She jogs a little further when she realizes the Sovvies were in no rush. They could just follow their footprints in the snow. They were being tracked and hunted down like animals.

"Sarge, hills!" Kelley shouts at her, pointing to the cluster of rocks up in the distance.

"Let's get some cover." Cover for what? Ella thinks bitterly. For a last stand? She looks back at the three privates still firing into the distance at targets they couldn't even see. Was her squad the latest to fall under their curse?

"Come on, save your ammo!" She orders. They run hard toward the out cropping. They scatter amongst the rocky hills when they get there and Ella sets Zakiya down gently.

"How are you doing?" She asks, rolling up her pants to inspect the damage.

"I'll live." The unspoken "but for how long" Iingers in the dry air. Ella offers a smile but she can tell when her squad knows.

"Ma'am." Tobin calls Ella over and she looks over the edge of the outcropping. At least a dozen soldiers bear down on their position.

"We have the higher ground." Ella says, steeling herself.

"Or we could run." Alex says quietly.

"Not without Private Bywaters." Ella yells.

"No, ma'am. I mean..." Alex stares at the ground in front of her and Ella curses. She takes a position by Alex's side and she sees what has Alex transfixed. A small, man-sized hole extends into the ground.

"It could just be a hole." Alex jumps in without hesitation and Ella hears her fall a short distance.

"It leads somewhere!" It could also lead nowhere, Ella thinks. The first shots ricochet off the rocks in front of her. Dead end or death, she thinks bitterly.

"Let's see where this goes!" Ella orders and Tobin and Kelley pull back. They jump in without a moment's hesitation and Ella scrambles over to Zakiya. She helps her to her feet as bullets sing above their head. Below, about six feet down, Kelley and Tobin wait with outstretched hands and Ella delivers the injured Zakiya down to them before jumping down herself. She nestles two grenade at the opening of the cave and when her soldiers are a safe distance, she lobs a third toward them. She drops to the ground and covers her ears

It explodes, detonating the other two, the cave shakes and rubble covers the entrance, plunging Ella in total darkness.

Ella concentrates on her breathing. In the deafening ringing of her ears, it's all she can do to tell herself she's still alive. When the ringing subsides a little, she hears Alex's voice calling for her.

"I'm here!" She calls out. When she stands rubble falls off her back and dust kicks up around her. She coughs, and sneezes, and Alex's hand rests on her arm leading her to the others. Above them, they can hear faint, angry Russian voices.

"So what do we do?" Alex asks. Ella shoulders her rifle and turns on her flashlight.

"How's Zakiya?" She asks.

"I'm fine, ma'am." Zakiya hisses when Tobin splints her ankle with a thin, flat piece of rubble. Kelley waves her flashlight down the tunnel but the darkness just swallows what light comes from it.

“How far does it go?” Alex asks quietly.

"Guess we'll have to find out." Ella replies. She looks back at Zakiya, who, with Tobin's help, gets to her feet. Alex takes her other side and the three of them help her hobble forward. Ella walks with them, and prays there's a way out on the other side.

~**~

_First Lieutenant Ali Krieger  
2012-11-24 ??:??_

_They bring in buckets of ice water the next day, when Ali's still wrapped in the remains of the blanket, her hand still formed as if she was still holding Ashlyn's hand. They force her onto her knees and hold her hands behind her back. She jolts awake when they grab her and she screams into the freezing water before she really knows what's going on._

_"What is your name?" The man with accented English demands before they even pull her face out. She sputters and shakes and they dunk her head under again. The cold stings her face and burns her eyes._

_"I ask again. Very easy question. What is your name?" Alex sputters and her whole body tells her brain to answer him. But this was just the tip, they wanted more put of her and they weren't going to stop with just a name. No, give them her name and they'd ask her rank. Give them her rank and they'd ask for her commanding officer._

_"You give a mouse a cookie." She laughs under her breath. They hold her underwater much longer the next time._

_"Your friend." Ali's ears perk up and he notices instantly. "She called your name before she left us."_

_"Where is she?" Ali demands._

_"Maybe we let you see her, maybe we don't."_

_"Is she alive?" It's too late for her to hide any amount of emotion, if her screaming for help didn't tell her how much Ashlyn meant to her, nothing would. Then again, she thinks grimly, she doesn't even know what Ashlyn means to her. The man draws his pistol and pushes it up against Ali's cheek._

_"Maybe we let you join her." They push her head under water again but Ali's too distracted to really feel anything. Ashlyn couldn't be dead. No, they were messing with her, they were breaking her down. There was no way..._

_She remembers the way Ashlyn's hand slackened that last day and all the fight leaves her._

_"What is your name?" He asks again._

_"Alexandra Krieger." She replies emptily. But it's all they get out of her that morning. They throw her back in the cell and toss a thicker blanket. They give her food this time, and water from the bucket. Ali only wraps herself in the blanket, leaving the food untouched. She thinks over and over about the questions she'll never get to ask Ashlyn._

_When she finally sleeps, she dreams of waking up on New Years day holding Ashlyn's hand. When she wakes for real, she can still feel the warmth of her Virginia home. When she stands, it’s with renewed hope, because as long as she can still imagine it, there’s the possibility that it will come true._

_When the Sovvies come with their ice again, she fights it longer. She gives them just enough information, her rank, for them to think her still cooperative, still breakable, and still useful alive. And when she goes to sleep that night, and the next, and the next, she holds onto the hope that Ashlyn’ll be there when it all ends and she can ask her questions._

“ _What do you mean by ‘I love you’?”_

~**~

_Private Alex Morgan  
2013-11-26 21:21_

“How deep does this thing go?” Kelley’s voices bounces off the ever expanding tunnel. Zakiya hobbles with her arm around Ella and Kelley, while Alex and Tobin scout ahead. Of course with the minimal amount of light their flashlights give off, all they report is more tunnel ahead.

“It’s taking us to Hell, Kel.” Alex replies sarcastically.

“If we have to cannibalize someone, I vote Gimp McHobbles here.” Kelley laughs and Zakiya makes a noise akin to a groan and a nervous laughter.

“Provided something else doesn’t eat us first.” Alex says in a spooky voice. Tobin elbows her hard in the ribcage.

“Shut up.” She hisses and Alex remembers that Tobin was more like to believe that than not. Darkness was not Tobin’s best friend, and she recalls how easily Tobin gets scared.

“Sorry.” She has a split second to apologize before her foot slips and she starts falling. A scream forms in her mouth as the ground gives way to nothing. Her hands scrambles for any sort of hold, and she hears Tobin scream her name.

Tobin’s hand shoots out and grabs her wrist just in time. She looks up and sees her straining every muscle in her body to pull her back up.

“I gotcha! Don’t let go!” In seconds Kelley appears by her side and grabs ahold of her arm and the two of them lift Alex back over the edge onto solid ground. Ella drops to her knees and looks her over for any serious injury.

"I'm fine! I'm fine!" Alex says but she shakes in place and can't get her limbs to cooperate when she orders them to help her stand. Kelley walks over to the edge and peers down.

"Jesus, Lex..." She whistles. "You can't even see the bottom!" Alex sees Ella open her mouth, her eyebrows knitted together angrily, but it’s Tobin’s voice that pierces her eardrums first.

“You need to watch where you're going, you idiot!" The two of them turn to Tobin, both surprised by her outburst. In the dim flashlight, Alex reads rage and terror on her friend’s face. “You could have died in the stupidest way ever! Watch your damned feet!”

“Private Heath…” Ella goes from about to shout the same thing to defending her from Tobin’s tirade.

“You are so stupid!”

“Tobin…”

“Hey lay off.” Kelley pulls on Tobin’s arm but she shrugs it off forcefully and marches on ahead. Kelley helps Alex to her feet. “You ok?”

“Yeah.” She can feel a nasty scrape from the rock wall starting to sting on her arm but other than that she felt fine physically. But Tobin’s words hurt more than just surface wounds.

“There’s a way down.” Tobin yells from a bit below.

“It’s leading to Hell.” Kelley mutters under her breath but the rest of the squad ignores her. Alex gets to her feet and follows Tobin down the rocky, treacherous path. Tobin doesn’t speak to her, and she can feel her displeasure emanate from her back. She’d never heard Tobin yell like that, hell, it was the first time she’d ever heard her even use the word “damn”. After following her for a few minutes, she loses her patience and touches her shoulder.

“Hey!” Alex hisses as quietly as possible but her voice echoes enough so that she knows the rest of the squad heard her. “Hey what the hell is up with you?”

“Stop talking to me and watch where you’re walking, ok?” Tobin spits back. Alex lets her go though her frustration mounts by the second. Kelley walks up beside her, a somewhat risky feat given the ledge barely has enough width to fit one of them.

“Just leave her for now. We all just want to get out of here, I’m sure that’s what it is.” Alex bites her lip.

“Yeah, you’re right.” She says and trains her flashlight to where she steps.

~**~

Alex doesn’t even know how far they’ve walked, only that her meager pack and rifle are starting to feel as heavy as a sack of bricks. Her feet hurt and the scrape on her arm stings. In the few instances they take a break, she can see fatigue written on everyone’s faces.

“We’ve been walking for four hours.” Kelley sighs. “We still don’t know where we’re going.” Hunger hits Alex’s stomach and the rumble that follows mimics everyone’s feelings. A protein bar appears over Alex’s shoulder, and she turns to see Tobin with her arm outstretched, offering her food.

“You didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” Tobin says curtly.

“No, I can’t…”

“Just take it.” Tobin drops it in her lap and Alex scoops it up gratefully. She takes a bite and passes it to Kelley, who eats some and passes it on. Tobin stands and shoulders her rifle. “I’ll look ahead.” She trudges on in the tunnel, her footsteps getting fainter by the second.

“Someone should go with her.” Kelley stands and hurries after her, leaving just Zakiya, Ella and Alex alone.

“What if we never get out of here?” Alex whispers.

“I don’t want to hear that talk.”

“It’s my fault for suggesting we jump.”

“Private Morgan, I swear if you don’t stop…” Ella’s stern voice halts in the middle of her reprimand and softens. “Alex, we would all be dead or captured if it wasn’t for you finding this tunnel. I guarantee you we wouldn’t have stood a chance.” Alex opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know if she meant to thank Ella for her words, or continue berating herself. Before she can decide, Kelley sprints back to them.

“I think we found something.” She says and the three scramble to their feet. They follow Kelley a short way, to where Tobin has her cheek pressed against the rock wall.

“It’s cold.” Tobin says. Ella presses her bare hand against the rock, and the feels a short distance down.

“It is.” She says. “It’s a lot colder there than it is here.”

“What does that mean?” Zakiya asks.

“That this might be a way out.” Tobin replies. “If the rock’s colder here, it must be exposed to the elements outside. Which means this wall is thinner, and it leads out.”

“Out!” Kelley exclaims with joy. Ella hits the rock wall with the butt of her rifle but it hardly does anything.

“Anyone have grenades? We can rig it.” Tobin hands her a single grenade and Ella looks at the rest of them. “Is that it?” She asks. No one else brings forth anymore. She signals for all of them to back away a safe distance. She finds a rock and pulls the pin from the grenade, setting it up right against the rock wall. She positions the rock carefully over the trigger, and gently pulls her hand away. Alex watches with bated breath when Ella steps away. She walks very carefully, and very slowly, walks towards them. When she reaches them, she sighs in relief.

“Let’s hope there’s enough concussion from that to at least weaken the wall.” She says quietly. The all know how big of a risk it is. Grenades were for soft targets, not hard ones like a rock wall. The most they could hope for is the shockwave causing some damage, and not too much at that. Too much, and the tunnel might collapse if it’s weak enough. Too little, and they’d have to keep looking, and they might not find anything better. Ella takes her pistol, and Alex aims the flashlight.

“Everyone duck, ok?” She says, and she shoots from behind the little bit of cover they have. The grenade explodes, and the entire squad hits the deck, covering their eyes and ears. Dust fills the tunnel, and they start coughing against it.

“Did it work?” Kelley asks. Ella’s the first to approach to see the damage done. She waves the dust cloud away, and puts her hand up to the rock.

“There...there’s a breeze!” Ella shouts and the squad cheers with joy. Small as the crack was, a breeze meant a way out. Alex reaches out and pulls Tobin into a hug, mildly surprised by her own action, and completely taken aback when Tobin hugs her in return.

~**~

_Sergeant First Class Becky Sauerbrunn  
2013-11-27 00:38_

“One’s coming your way, Leaderboard.” Megan says through the comset. “Turning the corner in 3..2..1…” Becky’s already reaching up for the chokehold before the soldier turns the corner. She grabs him by the head, turns him and grapples him around the throat. He struggles for a minute before he goes slack and Becky drags him around the building and hides his body behind a few crates.

“You scare me.” Megan laughs.

“Big Game, you in position? Any trouble?”

“Nothing we couldn’t handle quietly.” Carli replies with confidence. “We’re in position.” Becky scans the area, her heart pounding in her chest. They’d done well so far. It seemed like most of the soldiers were preoccupied guarding the four posts, and they’d been able to sneak in with Megan’s help sniping any problem soldiers in their way. She looked at her watch. Less than half an hour before the guards switched, before they noticed that there were guards missing. They needed to act now.

“Alright, headed to the meetup.” Becky hisses. Lauren and Heather hurry ahead, sneaking from one spot while Becky guards the rear. They spot movement, and ready their guns, only to breathe a sigh of relief when they see the friendly signal, meaning Carli, Kristie and Syd have made it to the opposite side. Becky hurries to her side of the building.

“Window.” Heather hisses, pointing to a small window looking down into the basement. Becky tentatively peers in.

“POW sighted.” She hisses into the com. A soldier sits in a chair, bag over their head, hands bound. Their uniform is completely tattered, the stripes ripped off completely. The soldier sits almost directly under the window, and Becky can see a Sovvie sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the room.

“I can make one Sovvie.” Becky hisses. “But I can’t see anything…”

“Let me try something.” Lauren says. She kneels and taps on the window.

“What are you doing?!” Becky demands. “You’ll get us made!”

“Trust me. He won’t hear.” She taps softly, almost indistinguishably, with her gloved finger. She taps in Morse code, and the soldier in the chair cocks their head, signalling that they heard. Becky keeps her gun trained on the Sovvie on the opposite side, hoping he doesn’t look up or hear. Lauren taps out a message.

“ _How many are there?”_ The soldier clenches their fist, and starts signing back.

“ _At least four. Two at the entrance, one here, one patrolling stairs.”_

“Good enough for me.” Becky says. “Our guy says there are at least four.” She looks at her watch. “We have 18 minutes to get in and get out. Big Game, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Pinoe, do we have any out front?”

“Not that I can see.” Megan replies.

“On my mark, we hit that door, smoke bomb and takedown.” She swallows. This was the hardest part, the silent takedown. “Three...two...one…” They move like one. Heather and Syd rush to the doors and pull them apart, Lauren and Kristie memorize the locations of the soldiers at the entrance and Carli tosses the smoke grenade in. Lauren and Kriste both attack their marks with deadly ease, slitting their throats before they get a chance to react. Carli and Becky rush in and meet the soldier on the stairs.

“Two!” Becky yells. Experience makes them efficient and smooth. Carli grapples the one closest and Becky shoots the one further down the stairs. They attack continuously, with Heather and Syd rushing past them into the actual basement, Lauren and Kristie following closely. Becky hears three gunshots.

“Secured!” She hears Syd yell. “Let’s move!” Through the smoke, she sees five figures emerge, one with a bag over their head.

“MOVE!” The smoke was sure to draw attention, not to mention the gunfire. She hears Megan shooting through the comset. “MOVE NOW!” Her team runs with their POW towards their entry point. Their POW runs well, stumbling here and there but able to keep pace with them well enough. They sprint through the drain pipe and out the base. Megan continues firing, all semblance of stealth obliterated at this point. Becky radios the air.

“We’ve got the target, you’re good to go!” She shouts.

“Confirmed, Leaderboard, cleaning up.”

“COME ON MOVE FASTER!” Becky urges. They run a good distance, until they reach the small cliff they scaled two hours ago and they push their POW over the ledge into a snow bank as their air soars overhead. Becky covers their target with her body and everyone ducks for cover as bombs go off just a few dozen feet away. Becky can feel the heat and the blast from her position. Their air do two sweeps, and level the base in a matter of minutes.

“Leaderboard, confirm your status.” She hears her air support say, the comset a little fried by the blast. Becky stands up, and does a quick count of her team.

“All accounted for.” She says. “Target is in our hands too.”

“Good job, Pink Berets, we’ll see you back at the base.” Her team gets up and cheers and clap each other on the backs. Becky turns to look at their rescued soldier. They still have a bag over their head, tightly tied at the neck.

“Alright, let’s get this off you, shall we?”

“Much appreciated.” They reply with a muffled laugh. The voice sounds vaguely familiar. Becky cuts the rope keeping the burlap sack over their head. “Let me tell you how much I do not enjoy smelling my unwashed hair.”

“You still have humor, that’s good.”

“That’s all I have.” The rope falls away, and Becky tugs the sack off. Brown hair falls around a thin face and Becky chokes down a gasp. Her face turns stoic and she can hear Megan over the com.

“Who is it?” Her team gathers around, they all know who it is.

“Jesus fuck.” Carli hisses.

“Wow. I didn’t expect you…wow…” Captain Abby Wambach stares at each of them and they all absorb it in stunned silence.  


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger  
????-??-?? ??:??_

_She kept count by the small scratches she made on the wall everyday when they finished with her. She kept it up for months, until a soldier erased it with a hard kick and scuff with his boot. From then it was guessing, the warmth of the wall meant perhaps it was summer. The chill in the air as sunlight fades meant maybe it was getting to be fall._

_She dreams of Ashlyn rarely, but always wakes up with her name on her lips. They waste her away until she had no more fight. They use the ice buckets to drag more information out of her, but when it becomes as routine as waking they turn to fire. They sear her back and arm. One soldier too eager to inflict pain left the iron too long on her left arm, and it crippled her for days from pain. She never saw him again, but it did not deter the others._

_The walls chill her that morning. It must be getting to winter, the cold is more bitter than usual. That meant she'd been there a year._

_She pictures what Ashlyn would be doing if she'd somehow escaped. Would she have gone back home? Would she wonder if Ali had been rescued or if she had met someone else back in the states. She tries to imagine Ashlyn with another girl, tall, blond, maybe a model but it hurts her in ways worse than the Sovvies and their fire, and ice and she goes back to grasping onto the better image of Ashlyn on New Year's Eve, when all there was between them was what had not been._

_She wakes to unfamiliar footsteps. In the year she’d been captured, she’d catalogued everything about every soldier, the smaller, stout one who favored his left side. The tall, quiet, blond man who always brought in whatever torture implements they would use for the day. He always let his feet scrape. She thought perhaps one day it would help her escape. But the footsteps that walk through the door are one she’s never heard before. Were they changing posts? Were they here to take her away as they did with Ashlyn?_

_The guard at the door mutters something in Russian and it doesn’t take a fluent speaker to hear the non-Russian accent on the guard coming through the door._

_“Ah fuck it.” Ali’s head pops up when she hears English from a woman’s voice. The soldier stepping through the door grabs her usual guard and holds him in a choke lock until he stops struggling. She lets him fall to the ground quietly, and takes the keys from his waist._

_“Who are you?” Ali demands. The woman, a tall, freckled brunette, glances only at her face._

_“USA?” She asks in a quiet, urgent tone. Ali nods and the soldier opens up the cell. She grabs Ali by the arm and hoists her to her feet with strength._

_“Leave it.” The woman hisses when she notices Ali clutching the threadbare blanket._

_“No.”_

_“We have blankets…”_

_“Rhi will ya hurry it up?” Another voice hisses from the doorway. Ali finds comfort in the hand dragging her away. They lead her up the stairs, and images flash in her mind of the way they took Ash. She grips the blanket tighter and keeps her head down. Outside, a tall, muscular brunette throws a Sovvie hat over her head and pushes it down over her head. Together they walk briskly through the small village until they reach a truck parked near the entrance._

_“Got her.” Rhi hisses and they push her in the back. Ali doesn’t get a good look at the driver before they speed off. She holds her breath once, when they stop at the gate when another soldier steps in the truck. Ali ducks her head down._

_“Let’s go.” The third soldier in the back urges. Ali glances at the empty gate booth, and she sees boots on the ground covered partially by a black tarp. “They’re going to change watch soon, and I personally don’t want to be here when they discover the bodies.”_

_They’re quiet for an hour, until the driver makes a crack that if only Rhi had taken Russian a bit more back in high school, they’d be in much better shape and the whole truck erupts in laughter. Ali keeps quiet, still unsure where they were taking her. She keeps her questions to herself, she’s kept them so long, she can wait on these a little longer._

_~**~_

_Staff Sergeant Ella Masar  
2013-11-27 02:49_

Ella bandages her raw hands and looks at the tiny hole they’ve managed to make through the rock. The wall, weakened by the blast, was easy to chip away at first, but their combat knives and handgun grips wore out quickly as the hole got just big enough for their smallest soldier to fit through. Zakiya manages to squeeze through after an hour of hard work.

“All clear on this side.” She yells back and then more quietly, “balls it’s cold.” Alex tries to squeeze through, but her frame catches and Ella drags her back.

“Ok just a little more.” Ella sighs. Her stomach rumbles. They’ve been without food for too long and she can feel her hunger start affecting her mood. Irritation sets in and all she wants to do is let her soldiers do the rest but she sets her jaw and starts chipping away again.

After thirty minutes, Alex and Tobin both shimmy through the opening and help from their end. After another thirty or so Ella finally manages to fit her shoulders through. Her team grabs her arms and pull her hard and with one sharp tug they leave the darkness of the cave behind in favor of chilling wind and star soaked skies.

“Freedom!” Tobin opens her arms and breathes the cold air deeply. Ella looks at their position. The snow extends for miles and miles, and she isn’t even sure where they’ve wound up after all that walking underground. For all she knew, they could have wandered ever further from home base. She futilely checks her compass, not sure which direction they should walk.

“Let’s settle here for the night.” She decides. “We’ve been working for hours without sleep, and by morning we’ll have a better view if our surroundings.” Her team’s shoulders sag gratefully and they curl up in a pile close to the rock wall, shielding themselves from the bitter wind while Ella squats close to them, silently volunteering herself for first watch. Snores overcome the whistling wind in a matter of minutes, and Ella runs her fingers through her stiff, icy hair.

“Are the even looking for us?” She wonders under her breath. “Surely the outpost should’ve sent someone looking?” Fear creeps up along her spine like a spider and her hairs stand on end. Those soldiers had come from the direction of the outpost. If that post had still been standing, they would not have been able to sneak so close to the main road, not with the equipment they were carrying. Ella swallows hard against the implications once she realizes that the only way those Soviet soldiers could have gotten into the position they were was if that outpost had been taken. They were losing the front line.

~**~

_Sergeant First Class Becky Sauerbrunn_   
_2013-11-27 03:12_

“Leaderboard? You get that call just having your own team?” Abby jokes. Her mood baffles Becky. After being captive for over year, she expects broken spirit, severe trauma, perhaps even hostility but Abby jokes with an uneasy Megan.

“Actually, I got this call because I broke your score on the pinball machine.” Becky replies.

“What? Seriously? Oh come on that’s all I had!” Abby throws up her arms in defeat. Becky smiles when she folds her face in her hand muttering about how it took her months to beat the previous score.

“For what it’s worth it held for years.” Becky offers but Abby only groans about how she expected it to last until the machine broke.

“Fine, but the very first thing I do after all this debrief shit is to beat your score.” She says jokingly, pointing an accusing finger. They make small talk. Abby asks what’s happened with the war since she’s been kidnapped and they answer vaguely, cautious about telling her too much. It occurs in the back of everyone’s mind that perhaps the Soviets had converted her, that the minute they unlock the cuffs keeping her chained to the floor, she could turn on them. She takes it in stride, with a smile of understanding and a joke about bleeding red, white, and blue whenever they beat her.

The truck arrives in the early hours of the morning, before anyone besides the soldiers on watch are awake. Becky helps Abby to her feet, unchains her from the floor and she and Megan walk her to the med building.

“Jesus you got beat.” The doctor tenderly inspects the bruises all over her body and face. “Anywhere hurt in particular?”

“Just my pride.” Abby laughs. The doctor gives her a firm, unamused look before returning to a particularly nasty cut on her forehead.

“They give you anything funny to drink, eat, drugs?” Abby shakes her head.

“Not that I know of.” The door behind them swings open and Becky turns around quickly. She and Megan both stand up as Hope looks at them from the doorway. Her eyes lock onto Abby’s and Becky looks back. Abby studies her hard, notices the decorations on her uniform.

“Damn you went up in the world.” She laughs low. Becky’s head turns from one to the other, surprised and trying to make sense of the casual tone Abby took with Hope.

“Lieutenant Sauerbrunn, a word in my office.” Hope says curtly. Her eyes never leave Abby’s and they stare at each other as if locked in some sort of wordless exchange. If Becky didn’t know better, it was more akin to a competition than a conversation with the way Hope’s eyes narrowed with every passing second.

“I’ll see you in debrief as well, Captain Wambach, whenever you’re ready.”

“As soon as I stop getting prodded I’ll see you.”

Becky gives Hope plenty of space when she leaves the room. She looks back at Abby, expecting some modicum of seriousness but Abby nods with a half smile before the doctor tugs at her ear to inspect the inside further.

Hope walks stiff all the way back to her office. Becky notices the unusual way her hands ball up, and the way her shoulder blades press together like she’s tight all over. It’s none of her business, Becky reminds herself, whatever Hope had to deal with, whether it was Abby or other things, it was well above her rank to know. Hope makes a beeline for her chair the minute they enter and Becky closes the door behind her as her commanding officer sags into the worn leather seat.

“No problems with the mission?” She sighs, resting her arms on the desk.

“No, ma’am.” Becky replies.

“Good. That’ll hopefully get my superiors off my back for a little while. I’m glad I have a unit I can trust.” She leans forward onto her elbows. “So give me your impression of Captain Wambach on your way back.” Becky blinks blankly. She expected her to inquire about the mission, about what they saw, about the execution of their plan, about the efficiency and speed of their air support. She did not expect an recount of their conversations coming back.

“Uh, she seemed in good spirits, ma’am.” Becky stammers. “Especially for one who’s been in captivity for so long.” Hope leans back and shakes her head, like she believes it, but still can’t make sense of it.

“Wouldn’t expect anything else.” Becky barely catches the words.

“Ma’am?”

“Nothing.” Hope straightens again and shakes her head like she’s waking up for the first time. “It’s late, Sergeant, and you’ve been on this mission long enough. Get some sleep, you deserve it more than anyone else on this base. You can type up your report and get it to me tomorrow.” Becky notes the bags forming under Hope’s eyes and she absently reaches up to touch her own exhausted visage. She stands at attention and quickly leaves the room, thinking how wonderful it would be to sleep in a bed, and how wonderful it was that they all made it back to get that opportunity.

_~**~_

_Brigadier General Hope Solo  
2013-11-27 05:55_

Hope doesn’t realize she’s sleeping until her forehead hits the desk and she starts awake, cursing and rubbing the tender skin where she’d hit the oak surface. She checks the clock and looks back at her phone. Still no messages from Ella. Her skin prickled uneasily. They had to have made it by now, maybe communications were down. She shook her head, the lack of sleep really must be affecting her if she was speculating. Guessing only led to poor decisions.

She looked at the list of soldiers she had under her command. She was already working with a barebones crew, she couldn’t spare any to go to the outpost to check in on Ella and her team. At the same time, she started making a list of the most qualified just in case they had been captured en route.

“General Solo?” Hope’s head jerks upward when she hears a familiar, teasing voice. Abby pokes her head in with a grin, like the whole concept was too amusing to her to contain. Hope throws her hands up.

“What the hell is my assistant even doing if she’s not checking with me first before she lets you in?”

“She’s outranked.” Abby shrugs.

“Rank has nothing to do with it. Besides, you haven’t been cleared yet.” Hope says between thin lips.

“Please, you think I’ve been brainwashed?” Abby closes the door behind her and sits down. “So what happened since I was gone? Looks like you rose real quick.”

“A lot has happened while you were gone.” Hope fiddles with a pen on her desk trying hard not to look at Abby. Abby notices and shifts in her seat uncomfortably. “Did you get sleep?”

“All I do is sleep. If it isn’t torture, or working my ass off for them, it’s sleep.” Abby studies the room around her, taking in all the different pictures, the paintings on the wall leftover from the previous tenant, the books double-stacked on the small shelves, the sparseness of her room in comparison to what Abby was used to with other men and women with Hope’s rank.

“How have you been?” Abby asks.

“Don’t.” Hope snaps.

“Don’t what?”

“You need to be evaluated by psych. I don’t even know how the hell you got out of your cell.”

“I have a soldier waiting outside for me…” Abby jerks a thumb back at the door and Hope rubs at her temples.

“I can’t deal with you right now.” She sighs fumbling around her desk for anything, even paperwork just to find an excuse to ignore Abby’s presence tainting her room with memories she did not want to relive.

“I missed you too.” Abby laughs sarcastically. Hope gives up and leans back in her chair, closing her eyes. How could Abby not get the hint that all she wanted was some peace and quiet, not some ghost from the past sitting across from her, pretending like she hadn’t spent the last year compartmentalizing her death.

“I’m glad to have you back.” Her words fall flat in front of her and Abby smirks at her effort.

“So are we winning?” Abby asks. “I hope we are. I know the Sovvies have been pushing from the north, capturing outposts near the Ukraine but hopefully we’re pushing East?” The temperature in the room drops the second the word “Ukraine” leaves Abby’s mouth and Hope shoots up straight.

“What?” Her voice steals the color and amusement from Abby’s face.

“I overheard...you know you don’t spend a year in Sovvie captivity without picking up some - they’ve been slowly pushing down from the North. They captured that Ilyin outpost.” Hope throws her arm across the desk and pushes everything away.

“Where?!” She shouts pointing to the map stapled on her desk. “Show me where!”

“I don’t know. Ilyin. Isn’t there only the one?” Abby flails, putting her arms in front of her uselessly. Hope stands, practically tipping her chair over as she runs for the door. She swings it open with a bang and darts out, not even caring that there was no soldier waiting outside the door for Abby.

There was only one outpost near Ilyin and she had just deployed Ella there.

~**~

Greg likes his coffee black and scalding. He just doesn’t like it on his uniform first thing in the morning which is where it wound up when Hope explodes into his room like a rocket screaming in the most controlled way she can.

“I need all the soldiers you can fucking spare. We lost Ilyin and I just sent a team there.” Greg calmly walks to his desk, fetches a handkerchief and daps delicately at the dark stains all along his collar.

“Care to explain why you’re in here like a bull, General?” He asks icily.

“We just rescued Captain Abby Wambach of Company 20 and she claims that the outpost at Ilyin has been captured. I just sent Ella and her team there.”

“I heard about the success of your operation. Congratulations.” His words sound as empty as his concern about Abby’s allegations. “But she has been through hell, we certainly can’t verify that her claims are true.”

“Ella was supposed to contact me over 12 hours ago and I’ve yet to hear any confirmation that she’s even alive.”

“Maybe she isn’t.” Greg’s admonition stops Hope’s tirade in its tracks and she struggles for a followup.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m willing to overlook your tone, your bursting into my office, even your apparent maniacal claims. We don’t have the manpower for a wild goose chase. One soldier is not worth losing many.”

“Five, sir.” Hope replies, shock ever spreading across her face. He walks over to his desk and picks up a stack of papers, tossing the bundle to Hope who scans it.

“I received that report this morning.”

“‘Reconnaissance has determined that the caravan sent to Outpost 12 in the town of Ilyin has been intercepted and destroyed. Further surveillance has determined that no survivors have escaped the wreckage…’” She stops reading and stares at Greg in disbelief.

“We’ve lost that outpost.” Greg says slowly. “We need to concentrate our forces so we don’t lose any more of the north.”

“It doesn’t say they have confirmation of bodies.” Hope argues.

“Masar is dead. I order you to drop the subject, Solo.” Hope flings the report back at him, her blood pounding in her ears. She rests her hands on his desk and clenches her teeth so that her words fill with venom when she speaks.

“Fuck you, sir, if you think I’m going to give up on my soldiers.”

_~**~_

_First Lieutenant Alexandra Krieger  
2013-11-27 11:23_

They tell her what month, day, and year it is over the course of their ride back to where ever they were taking her. Ali learns that it’s been well over a year since they first attacked the shores of Sochi, that that offensive led to further victories and expansion into Sovvie territory, that it had been such a bloody year even discounting Company 20. At some point she must have fallen asleep because she jolts awake when the truck grinds to a halt and she tenses, expecting the worst.

“We’re here.” The tall brunette with a square jaw pulls her to her feet roughly and practically throws her out of the back of the truck. She stumbles forward and looks at their destination. They stood in front of a run down barn with a small stone house standing next to it. She looks back at her new...captors? saviors? She couldn’t tell who they were or what they wanted, only that they took her away from the Sovvies.

“Home sweet home.” The driver jumps out of the truck, landing in the snow. Standing straight she must have barely touched 5’0.

“Get her patched up.” Her passenger, a lighter-haired brunette, indicates towards her. “And get her settled.” She speaks without any malice or ulterior tone in her voice.

“Let’s go.” The tiny soldier says, taking Ali by the forearm and leading her into the barn. Ali immediately takes stock of the inside. Maps lined the walls, supplies sloppily hid behind bales of hay. A table decorated the center, covered with papers and wrapped packages.

“This way.” The soldier shepherds Ali into the corner where a manageable amount of medical supplies poked out from the hay on the ground. She treats her wounds carefully, though she doesn't speak at all until they're done.

“What’s your name?” She asks once she applies salve to the burn wounds on Ali’s back.

“Alexandra Krieger.” It’s nothing the Sovvies didn’t already know and if this was some cooked up Sovvie ploy, she wasn’t giving them any more than they already had.

“Rank? Country?”

“First lieutenant. United States Army.” The soldier grunts, almost like she’d known the answer already. She give Ali thick blankets, and she clutches the thin one she'd been given that year ago, still dark with Ashlyn’s blood. The soldier she’d first seen, the one who spoke a little Russian, Rhi, approaches the two of them with a plate steaming with hot rations that, while to the normal eye did not look appealing, made Ali’s mouth water.

“You hungry?” The shorter one gives her food, and after a moment's hesitation she eats until she remembers what being full feels like.

"Where am I?" She asks the short one who tended to burns on her back.

"Our camp."

"You're Canadian." Ali nods to the red and white flag stitched into her sleeve.

"Yup." The short girl affirms. Her tone is neither friendly nor curt, but matter-a-fact and Ali settles into a comfort that while they certainly wouldn't pamper her, they would take her to safety. Once she finishes, Rhi takes her by the arm and leads her out of the barn towards the small hut next door.

“We’re going to keep you here for a while.”

“You’re allies?” Ali asks.

“Of a sort.” Rhi replies. “We’ll see you delivered back to your country’s base safely, if that’s where you’re concerned.” Ali nods, grateful for an honest answer. "Here you are." She unlocks the door and Ali takes one step in before she chokes on her own breath.

Ashlyn stands slowly like she can't believe what she's seeing, like she's seeing a ghost and Ali's expression must mirror it. The door behind her closes gently, and she doesn’t even care about the lock clicking back into place.

"Ali." Her voice sounds different than Ali remembers. Ali swallows the sob rising in her throat. After so long, after a year dreaming, imaging, and clinging onto the picture of Ashlyn that she had built up, it felt like a punch to the gut; too much and not enough at once. She hadn’t realized how ready she was to accept Ashlyn’s death, until she had her alive in front of her. She feels her knees start to buckle, overwhelmed by the strength she needs not to break down.

"I thought..." Ashlyn crosses the gap and takes her into her arms and the feel of something real, something tangible, breaks the paper thin barrier keeping Ali from crying. She holds and holds, and after an agonizing minute of processing the feeling of Ashlyn really touching her, Ali brings her hands up and grips her back.


End file.
